


Transference

by The_Quartermasters



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-30
Updated: 2013-11-30
Packaged: 2018-01-03 01:58:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 39
Words: 146,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1064352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Quartermasters/pseuds/The_Quartermasters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a modern AU, Zuko has to deal with settling in a new school after expulsion, dealing with an angry ex and an abusive father. Maybe his new found friendships and growing closeness with Sokka will help him make it through.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Zuko tugged the worn red hoodie lower, a gesture of habit as he strode purposefully into the arcade, set his steps toward the well-used shooter in the back. The game was outdated and its console dinged and scraped all to hell, but few of the arcade's patrons even spared a glance in its  
direction and Zuko liked it that way.  
  
His fistful of quarters was warm as Zuko's hand left his pocket with two, slipping them into the old machine with something almost like reverence, then taking up the offensively orange gun with a quirk of his mouth.  
  
Within moments Zuko was lost in the game, the flash of explosions and staticky screams sucking him into pixilated scenery where monsters went down in a spray of bullets, and all it took to rid the world of shambling evil was quick fingers and a little pocket change.  
  
"Aaaawwww-COME ON!" A thump on glass came with the anguished shout that seemed to have no sense of space or volume. "This thing is rigged!"  
  
Aang was pressing his face to the glass on the opposite side of the crane machine as a stuffed elephant tumbled from the feeble claws. Sokka was already fumbling for more money to feed to the hungry machine. "If it's rigged, then why are you doing it again?" Aang wondered.  
  
"Because no machine defeats me!" Sokka snapped back, manning the joystick again. Thirty seconds later, he was again moaning in anguish, letting his forehead fall against the glass. He stared through to the other side and then blinked a few times, looking past Aang who tilted his head quizically. "Hey -- isn't that the transfer kid at school? The one with the scarred face?"  
  
Aang followed Sokka's gaze, poking his head around the side of the offending crane game to get a better look at the slightly hunched figure at the zombie rail shooter. He couldn't quite get a glance at his face, and so could only offer his taller friend a shrug. "Dunno, but wow! Whoever he is, he's really good at shooting. Look, he's not missing any of them!"  
  
"I bet he's a thug," Sokka grinned, elbowing Aang in the arm. "Lookit the hoodie, think he's in a gang? I heard he got expelled from some fancy reform school."  
  
"Hakan Academy?" Aang clarified. "The HUUUUUGE rich kid school? Wow..." He skirted around the crane machine, doing his best to look casual as he leaned against the glass and stole another glance. From the edge of the kid's hood, he could just make out the twisting pink of scar tissue.  
  
His nerve suddenly failing him, Aang darted back to Sokka's side excitedly. "It's him! It's totally him!" Then, "He definitely looks like a thug." This observation didn't seem to bother the younger boy in the least, however.  
  
"He must be kind of a lame thug if he's here playing video games instead of shooting real people," Sokka observed thoughtfully.  
  
"Hmmm," Aang agreed, his lips pursed thoughtfully. Then he shot a grin at his older cohort. "Dare you to play against him."  
  
"What!" Sokka laughed, eyeing the new kid across the arcade. And the way that he was murdering everything that appeared on the screen. "It wouldn't really be fair. I don't want to make him feel bad."  
  
"For kicking your butt?" Aang asked and laughed as Sokka shoved him. "Daaaaare yoooooou..."  
  
"Shut up," Sokka muttered and stared circling the arcade with Aang in tow to get a better look at the guy before approaching. He didn't look *that* tough -- the scar was a little bit scary but... "Fine," he said and Aang trailed him, grinning as Sokka strode up to the machine where the transfer student was playing.  
"Yo," Sokka said, lifting a hand and leaning against the side of the screen.  
  
Zuko said nothing, blasted another three targets with a flick of his wrist, and only when the loading screen for the next level appeared did he register that the one who'd spoken was still standing there. Too close.  
  
"What do you want?" he snapped, not bothering to take his eyes from the screen.  
  
Aang gave his taller friend a little shove. "Go on," he whispered, none too quietly. "Kick his butt like you said!"  
  
"Shut up!" Sokka hissed back at Aang, batting him away. He turned back to the scarred boy -- man was it an impressive scar -- with what he hoped was a friendly looking grin. "Mind if I join you?" he asked with a nod to the second player weapon still in the holster.  
  
"Yes," was the immediate reply, though before Sokka had even the chance to respond, he found narrowed brown eyes on him, a glance that flickered between the screen and his face. After a moment, the boy's answer was amended with an irritated, "Whatever," and maybe just the hint of a smirk.  
  
Something about the guy's gaze made Sokka's stomach twist a little but he put on a good game face, nice and cocky and circled the machine to the second player position. "Prepare to be amazed," he said as he dropped a few coins in the machine. A shot at the screen entered him into the game but as he readied his gun, he realized something was wrong. "Wait -- it's a TEAM game? Not versus?"  
  
Zuko wasn't about to admit that he'd not realized this either --he'd never been challenged nor joined in a game before now-- and quickly schooled his expression into bland disinterest as he sniped two targets meant for the second player out from under Sokka's nose. "Heads up," he sneered.  
  
"O-oh!" Sokka stumbled over the sound but was quick to compose himself, lifting his weapon to take down a couple of zombies that lurched around a corner.  
  
Aang had placed himself behind the two boys, watching between their shoulders. "This is even better!" the younger boy said excitedly, tossing an arm around Sokka's neck to pull himself up so that he could see the screen better.  
  
"Aang!" Sokka choked in protest as he was pulled by the boy's weight, sending his shots into a swarm of enemies that had suddenly appeared and were converging on the first player position.  
  
"Control your monkey," Zuko scowled, half distracted as his aim darted back and forth, struggling with the sheer number of monsters the game had spawned to challenge what its programming perceived as a two player team.  
  
"Hey!" Aang protested, dropping his hold on Sokka to turn toward the hooded boy. "I'm not a monkey! My name's Aang!"  
  
Zuko didn't seem to have heard him. "There!" he snapped, "My left, my left!"  
  
"I'm shooting, I'm shooting!" Sokka snapped back -- this guy was pushy! Between the two of them though, they decimated the onslaught of zombies surprisingly quickly and the camera was ushering them into the next area which opened up into a wide field where the creatures were climbing up out of the ground. "Oh shit!" Sokka exclaimed as one of them burst from the dirt directly in front of him. He instantly shot its brains out, then laughed darkly, grinning as his hand tightened on his gun.  
  
Even Zuko found a quiet chuckle in the back of his throat, not quite loud enough for the strange, loud boy next to him to hear, but enough to make Zuko himself instantly uncomfortable. To cover for this uncharacteristic reaction, the dark-haired boy decimated half a dozen zombies in half as  
many seconds.  
  
By the time they'd passed the level, his arms were aching from the strain, unused to the jump in difficulty that the game threw out in the 2-player game. Though he was good and his aim was impeccable, it became quickly apparent that the skill of their team was not up to the challenge and soon the screen was flashing, bloody red seeping from all sides, a warning that death was imminent.  
  
"You bastards!" Sokka was angrily chastising the screen.  
  
He was shooting off rounds almost faster than he could reload but the panic of impending 'game over' didn't exactly help his aim. They managed to hold out for about thirty more seconds before the game proclaimed deeply, "You have died."  
  
"THAT WAS AWESOME!" Aang crowed.  
  
Zuko scowled faintly at the 'Continue?' screen begging more of his quarters before deciding against it and stowing his gun with rather more force than was necessary. He ignored the smaller one's outburst and spared only a brief, withering stare for the dark-skinned boy still holding his fluorescent weapon. "It's called skill. Next time make sure you've got some before you challenge me," he sneered, letting them see his scarred eye before pulling his hood down over his face again and turning to exit the arcade without a backward glance.  
  
"Hey!" Sokka shouted after him. "I didn't challenge you, I JOINED you, jerk! It's called manners, next time you show your stupid face in public, make sure you have some! Also, your hoodie's ugly!"  
  
With a thoughtful expression, Aang watched the transfer student stalk out of the arcade, seemingly oblivious to the hurled insults. After a moment, he turned to Sokka with a wide grin. "He seemed nice!"  
  
~~~~  
  
There was a car waiting for Zuko outside, unsurprisingly, but he pretended not to notice, instead choosing to walk a block or two before hailing a cab to take him the rest of the way home.  
  
He didn't bother sparing a glance as the black car pulled up moments after the cab dropped him off.  
  
Though he tried to enter quietly, it was difficult to escape some manner of attention in their home. And as he walked past the front sitting room, a voice called, "Welcome home, big brother. Did you have a lovely day at  _public_  school?"  
  
"Shove it, Azula," Zuko growled, hefting his bag higher on his shoulder and kicking out of his shoes, but never once glancing in his sister's direction, even when he paused in the doorway between sitting room and hallway. "Is Father in his office?"  
  
"I suppose so," Azula replied, sighing as she brushed invisible lint from her impeccable school uniform. "Are you really going to bother him?"  
  
"Do you really care if I do?"  
  
His sister's silence was more than enough to answer his question. As long as her brother continued to behave like a fool and a hooligan, it only made her sparkle that much brighter in their father's eye. Her ambition counted on her older brother digging himself as deep into the hole of his own making as he could.  
  
But Zuko was determined too. He wasn't ready to roll over and play dead. Not for his sister, not for anyone.  
  
Stopping briefly at his own room, he shrugged out of his street clothes and into slacks and a polo, clothes his father had chosen for him. He struggled with whether to leave his hair loose and cover the scar as much as possible or to slick his hair back like he'd worn it at the Academy. With a steadying breath he chose the later, determined to be unashamed when he faced his father.  
  
Finally ready, he took the stairs and found the door to his father's office. He took a breath and knocked twice.  
  
"Enter," came his father's deep voice from within. The man barely glanced up from the laptop on the desk before him, disinterest on his severe face as he turned his eyes back to the screen. "Yes, boy?"  
  
"Father," Zuko murmured, stepping into the room and closing the door quietly behind him, bowing his head deeply. "May I... speak with you?"  
  
Ozai glanced up again, this time appraising for a moment. Then he looked back to his computer. "Of course. You know my door is always open, Zuko. Sit." As the young man sank into the chair in front of his desk, Ozai silently continued working and in spite of the luke-warm words, Zuko knew  
better than to expect anything else.  
  
It took a moment for Zuko to gather the strength to speak, but when he did, his voice was surprisingly steady. "It's been almost two months since I was transferred to Rockwave... my grades have held steady and... and I've been in no trouble. I was only hoping you might tell me when..." he trailed off, eyes searching his father's face hopefully.  
  
The older man showed no reaction whatsoever though, not even looking up from his work. "That's two months after nearly two years and two schools," he remarked, clearly unimpressed. "Two months with marks that are steady but hardly impressive."  
  
Zuko felt his throat contract, his chest tighten. Nothing his father said was untrue and yet, "I--! I was confused, Father. Now I'm-- things are much better... and-- a-ask my teachers! Please!" He leaned forward then, hands on the edge of the great oak desk. "Please let me come back to Hakan!"  
  
Ozai's gaze moved slowly to Zuko's hands and then his face. "This isn't a matter up for discussion. Show some consistency, patience and self-control and I *might* consider allowing you back to the academy. If this conversation is any indication though, it doesn't seem particularly  
likely."  
  
Zuko quivered with restrained emotion, knuckles turning white as he clutched his father's desk like a lifeline. He was testing him. It was just a test. If he let his emotions rule him, his father would never accept him back. The breath he took to steady himself was difficult to draw, but finally he let his fingers slip from polished wood and he stood, albeit a bit stiffly. "I... won't let you down, Father," he murmured, head bowed in something between shame and politeness.  
  
"Mm," was Ozai's only response, having already returned to his work. Clearly the conversation was over.  
  
With nothing left to say, Zuko slipped quietly from the room, idly wondering if his father had even noticed the clothes he'd worn. He tried to remember if the man had even met his eyes once.  
  
Zuko found his uncle in the kitchen. He hadn't even known the older man was visiting, but when he saw the hunched back and the curl of steam rising from what could only be a cup of hot tea, Zuko felt something like relief settle into his belly and he crossed the floor to pull up a stool and join the other at the kitchen's large center island.  
  
A warm smile was always waiting from his Uncle Iroh and today was no exception, the aging man quick to pour a cup of tea for Zuko. "Hello, Nephew! You are looking quite sharp today, aren't you?"  
  
Zuko frowned deeply, barely able to quell the surge of appreciation for something as simple as complimenting his attire. Still he managed to take the tea cup with a gentleness taught him by Iroh, and held it up to breathe the calming scent for a long moment. "I talked to Father," he explained, the tone of his voice already expressing to Iroh the outcome of the conversation.  
  
"I see..." Iroh murmured, his always quietly observant eyes watching Zuko's face carefully. He paused to sip his tea, knowing from previous conversations what the topic of discussion had been. "My brother is a very stubborn man," he mused with a faint sigh.  
  
Zuko echoed his uncle's sigh and sipped faintly at his own tea, not really tasting it, but knowing the warmth would be welcome. "I don't understand, Uncle! I'm doing everything I can! I don't fight, I don't talk back, my grades have improved and are already better than most of my classmates... he still won't forgive me..."  
  
A wide hand covered Zuko's with a soft pat, sympathy apparent in his uncle's eyes. "I believe, nephew, that my brother's actions are much more about himself than your actions or success." He hesitated, then sipped his tea again. "Zuko... What is it exactly that you miss about your old academy?"  
  
Zuko searched his Uncle's face, questioningly. "Well it's... it's like home. I've been going there my whole life, everything I know is there. My mother taught there... Father's the dean! He-- he-- I made him proud when I was there. I could -be- someone there... I -was- somebody there." And  
now, he added, quietly, bitterly, it's just Azula. And she was all their father had eyes for anymore.  
  
"Hmmm," Iroh rumbled thoughtfully, closing his eyes briefly. "Familiarity is not always the most important thing Zuko, nor does it always bring happiness. I am very proud of you for all you have done and I'm sure secretly, that your father is as well." He was speaking quietly now, hushed as they were in Ozai's own kitchen. "But perhaps it is time that you made your achievements your own instead of your father's."  
  
A deep frown darkened Zuko's face, and he had to set the tea cup aside as his fingers shook with emotion. "You don't understand, Uncle. I can't go against my father. Not again. I can't-- lose any more than I already have." He stood then, hesitated, bowed his head briefly. "Th-thank you for the talk, Uncle."  
  
Iroh sighed quietly but nodded to the young man. "I always like talking to you, Zuko." He reached to give his shoulder a squeeze, offering him an encouraging smile. "And you know you are always welcome to visit me!"  
  
A polite nod and an aching chest were Zuko's replies, before he turned and quietly took his leave.  
  
\---  
  
With the four friends scattered across grades, they only were able to see each other before and after school, except for Aang and Toph who were both freshmen. The older half of the quartet had been concerned about their younger friends entering high school but had quickly realized that there was little to worry about -- both Aang and Toph were tough as nails.  
  
"Sokka!" Aang exclaimed as they flopped into the grass in front of the school -- it was a sunny day, perfect for laying back and watching the fluffy clouds. "Did you tell them about the other day?"  
  
"Huh?" Sokka asked with a yawn and a stretch.  
  
"The guy!" Aang insisted and loomed over Sokka with a sour face, imitating the boy who they'd run into at the arcade. "Sokka played video games with that angry transfer student!"  
  
"What?" Katara interrupted, frowning vaguely before Sokka could respond. "The guy with the--?" she waved vaguely at her own face, flushing a little in embarrassment.  
  
"Yeah!" Aang chirped. "That guy! He's great at Super Zombie Wars! He and Sokka were tearing it up!"  
  
"With the what?" Toph asked curiously, lying on her stomach with feet kicking over her back.  
  
"He's got a -- well, a scar on his face. A big one," Sokka explained.  
  
"Hardcore. Oh -- you mean the thug."  
  
"I don't think he's a thug," Aang offered thoughtfully. "He seems like a normal enough guy. He didn't even try to beat up Sokka for making him lose at Zombie Wars..."  
  
"Yeah--HEY, I DIDN'T MAKE HIM LOSE!" Sokka snapped angrily.  
  
"He *could* have tried to beat you up though, Sokka!" Katara interjected, chiding. "I heard he's been kicked out of three schools. Even Jet won't fight with him."  
  
"Jet's a pussy," Toph scoffed with a snicker. "Mr. Fang caught him smoking and he got detention for a week! I would have kicked the teach in the knee and told him to mind his own business if he didn't want people to find out about his mud-wrestling porno mags."  
  
Katara cast the younger girl an absolutely scandalized look, a gesture which all present knew to be useless to the blind girl. Still, somehow, Toph correctly read the other girl's stunned silence. "Oh, come on. Lighten up! Just cuz you have a crush on the pothead Chia Pet..."  
  
"You like Jet?" Aang piped up, just a little disappointed. Being a freshman made getting a girl's attention difficult.  
  
"No!" Katara snapped too quickly, giving the grinning Toph a pouting look but unable to hide her blush. "Anyway -- we were TALKING about Sokka being stupid!"  
  
Sokka groaned, letting his head flop back against the grass. Using him to keep the attention off of herself was a dirty move. "Seriously, not a big deal," he said, knowing exactly that Katara was getting at. "The guy's a jerk but he's not even that TOUGH."  
  
"Sokka, I heard he got expelled from his last school for breaking some other kid's arm," Katara announced, seriously.  
  
"Maybe Sokka caught him in a -good- mood," Toph suggested with a snort, failing to be intimidated by the other girl's gravely delivered news.  
  
"Do you know anything else about him?" Aang queried, all his attention on Katara.  
  
"Well, I heard he got his scar when he set fire to the gym at his first school," she said, falling easily into her role as the group's grapevine. "And that he's from some rich family that disowned him for being a hooligan."  
  
"I heard he eats baby brains with a spoon and has a shrine to Hitler," Toph piped up and when everyone stared at her, horrified, she added, "Okay I made that one up but I'm hoping it'll catch."  
  
"Did he really burn down his school's gym?" Aang wondered, frowning.  
  
Katara shrugged. "I'm just saying what I've heard. Even if it's rumor, he's gotta have done *something* awful to get kicked out of school after school. People wouldn't talk unless there was *some* basis to the rumors," she insisted.  
  
"Yeah," Aang nodded, "I guess you're right."  
  
"You know," Toph was saying, "The part about him being a rich kid's gotta be true... I mean, it can't be coincidence that he's got the same last name as that fancy-pants Academy on the coast."  
  
"What, the Hakan academy?" Sokka piped up with a quirked brow. "That's his name?"  
  
"Um, hellooo? He's only been the talk of every girly gossip circle since he transfered here. I'd think *you* would have heard that much already." Toph's jab wasn't subtle, but the chance of it going over Sokka's head was about 50/50.  
  
Sokka looked at her for a long, suspicious moment. Then... "HEY--"  
  
"Maybe he just needs some friends!" Aang interjected suddenly, enthusiastically. "He was all alone at the arcade. He's probably lonely!"  
  
This declaration was met with a long moment of silence before Toph piped up, waving a hand in front of her nose. "Is everyone else making the same face I am?" she asked, brow raised and lips drawn in an exaggeratedly skeptical expression. "Because you should be."  
  
"Toph's right, Aang," Katara added. "This guy is bad news. You should stay away from him."  
  
"I didn't say -that-," Toph argued with a smirk. "I only wish I could see the dude's face when Aang tries to give him a big ol' friendly hug."  
  
Aang was pouting. "Come on you guys -- you weren't there. Don't you think I'm right, Sokka?"  
  
"Eehh..." Sokka's mouth twisted into a comical expression. "It doesn't really work like that, Aang. I'm not saying he's actually TOUGH but I think if you just decided 'yay, I'm gonna be your friend!' he might sock you."  
  
Aang's mouth set into a deep pout, arms folded across his chest. "Yeah, well. We'll just see about that."  
  
Toph grinned, waved in Sokka's direction to get his attention. "I'd ask you to follow him and film the whole thing but..." the younger girl reached up and pulled obscenely at her lower eyelid with one finger. "...you know."  
  
Katara wrinkled her nose a little at Toph's gesture but then turned her gaze to her brother in a look that clearly said 'keep an eye on him.' Sokka sighed but shrugged in response to their silent conversation.  
  
The end of lunch bell prevented any further argument on the subject and the group parted ways, Aang deep in thought and Sokka with a looming premonition of disaster.


	2. Chapter 2

Home ec had to be the most useless class Zuko had ever set foot into. At Hakan, he would have been taking a genuine economics course, or financial planning. Or something -interesting- like metal-working. The closest anyone got to handling a welding torch at this school was clutching the end of a long kitchen match if the stove's pilot light went out. It was, frankly, humiliating.

To top it off, not only was the damned class a graduation requirement, most students took it during their first or second years and as such, three times a week for two whole hours, Zuko found himself the only Junior in a room full of short, obnoxious freshmen.

One of whom, unfortunately, was now an increasingly familiar face since they'd met at the arcade. And that face was distracting him because when the younger boy caught Zuko's eye it was with a downright crazed smile, broad and bright with teeth. It was distracting enough that he wasn't paying attention while the instructor spoke and then suddenly there was movement all around -- and the boy was barreling toward him at a dangerous velocity.

"Wanna make a cake with me?" he said, skidding to a halt in front of the older boy, still wearing that insane smile.

" _What?_ " Zuko drew back instinctively, eyeing the younger boy like he might be diseased or possibly looking to sell him something. "No!  _Cake_?" Clearly he was missing something. "What?"

Aang's grin shifted into a pouting purse of lips, brow furrowing at the delinquent. "You have to do it," he pointed out. "Or you won't get the grade. And no one else is gonna be your partner," he added, perhaps a little harshly.

Zuko looked around the classroom, just a little panicked. The kid was right. Everyone was pairing up and dragging out bowls and flour and the teacher was eyeing him like she was just -waiting- for him to step out of line and give her an excuse to send him to detention. And that, Zuko could not afford to risk. _Well, shit._  He gave a defeated sigh. Cake. Great. "Fine," he muttered, moving over to give the boy room at his otherwise empty table.

The grin returned victorious and Aang started dragging out bowls and supplies that were already in the shelves beneath the table. "Do you remember my name? Yours is Zuko, right? We met before at the arcade. Want to sift the dry stuff? Do you think we get to eat the cakes?"

Zuko blinked, a little stunned at the questions that flew rapid fire from the boy's mouth. He took the sifter that was placed in his hand, but instead of answering, he asked a question of his own. "Why are you talking to me?" They'd been in the same class for almost two months and the kid had never shown any interest in invading his personal space until now.

Aang shrugged, concentrating on the recipe that was before them. "You seem interesting," he said as his answer. "And you're always alone. You shouldn't glare so much," he suggested, offering another smile as he started measuring out butter.

"I don't  _glare_ ," Zuko snapped back, as he pulled a large bowl over to his side and began to sift the flour. He had no particularly notable skill in the kitchen, but he remembered enough from time spent with his mother that he suspected he could manage a cake without completely ruining it. 'Interesting'? What sort of game was the kid playing? "Seems like you'd get your fill of 'interesting' with that tan monkey friend of yours."

Aang was cutting pointless shapes into the butter when Zuko spoke and abruptly dumped it into the mixing bowl. "Sokka's pretty interesting," Aang said offhandedly. "But more like crazy interesting. You're _mysterious_  interesting!" He paused for a grin and a glance, noting that Zuko *did* remember them. "That was pretty fun, huh? Sokka's in your grade -- do you have any classes with him? If you like video games, we should go over to his house -- they have a 360."

Zuko held up a hand, "Just-- just slow down. Christ, can anyone keep up with you?" He picked up a spoon and tucking the bowl under one arm, began mixing. 'Mysterious'? Did this kid live in a pulp novel?

Aang was excitable but he wasn't oblivious so with this warning, he stopped for a deep breath, visibly calming himself. He caught Zuko's eye with a smile that was answered with a strange look.

"World history," Zuko finally said, half a minute later.

"Huh?" Aang blinked at him unknowingly, having forgotten what question he was answering. "Oh! Really? Sokka's really good with school stuff even if he's not the best at video games," he babbled as he expertly cracked a couple of eggs. "He thought you were cool," he continued, even if it wasn't exactly true. "But you definitely could have kicked his butt if that game had been versus."

Zuko held out the bowl and resumed stirring when the eggs had been added. It shouldn't have mattered --who cared about one dumb kid and his opinions anyway?-- but Zuko couldn't help the tiny spark of pride that swelled with the praise. "It was pretty bold to challenge me," he agreed, not really offering a compliment at all, despite his words. A pause, as Zuko let the rest of what the boy had said sink in, and raised a deeply skeptical brow. "He thought I was  _cool_."

For a beat, Aang froze internally, realizing what he'd said. And the fact that it wasn't exactly *true*. What could it hurt though? "Oh yeah!" he said quickly. Think think think -- "You know, ‘cause you're all -- aloof. And uh... strong." With any luck, Sokka would never know the words he was putting in the older boy's mouth. It seemed like a good idea though, especially since he knew Katara was going to make Sokka keep an eye on him as he tried to befriend Zuko. If Zuko thought Sokka thought he was cool, maybe he'd want SOKKA to be his friend and then they could ALL be friends.

Best plan ever. "Sokka likes tough guys!"

"Does he, now?" Zuko asked, his tone expressing as little interest as possible as he passed the bowl to the kid for his turn at stirring. "Does he also like shopping, eating ice cream and long walks on the beach?"

"Actually... yes," Aang said thoughtfully, staring down into the forming batter. "Yes, he does."

For a long moment, Zuko just stared, clearly wondering if the kid was for real. The finally he turned back to the table, pulling out a couple of cake-pans and started greasing them. "Just my luck," he muttered under his breath. Expelled from school, on the verge of being disowned by his father, and now, stuck in this public school nightmare where the only people who'd even had the balls to talk to him were a crazy and a queer. He was still holding his breath for the day when karma was on his side again. "Can you pour?" he asked, nodding toward the readied pans. Even if nothing else went right today, at least he could get an A on this damned cake.

"Sure!" Aang replied enthusiastically. "That went pretty fast," he said thoughtfully as he watched the thick cake batter even out into the pans. "We work pretty well together! Did you really break somebody's arm?"

Zuko blinked, then frowned faintly, disturbed to find he was getting used to the boy's sudden shifts of subject. He crossed to their shared oven, setting it to preheat before returning to the table to fix the younger boy with an unreadable stare. "Who told you that?"

"Just rumors," Aang replied with a shrug. He was leaning lazily on the table, using a spatula to idly smooth the tops of the batter. "I didn't figure they were true."

"I didn't break anyone's arm," Zuko corrected, turning to rest his elbows against their table. "Guess I'm not as 'interesting' as you thought," he added, hoping, but not really expecting that to be the end of it.

"Nah," Aang replied, offering an unabashed grin. "It just means you probably won't break my arm. Do you like cooking?" he asked.

"Not really," he shrugged, casting a glance toward the oven before turning back, and there was a moment where Zuko almost, -almost- let the boy see his smirk. "I did break someone's nose once."

Aang's eyes widened, his grin fading for a moment as Katara's warning words flooded back to him. "R-really?" he asked.

"A little less chatting and a little more cooking and you boys might actually make something that looks like food!" their teacher was suddenly behind them, her voice warning.

Zuko turned then, eyes flickering dangerously, unintimidated as he lifted a cake pan in each hand, caught the teacher's gaze and stepped past her, turning on a heel to catch the oven door and toe it open, sliding the tins in with an impeccably balanced flourish before closing the door, checking the temperature and returning to their table. He glanced pointedly around the room. "Looks like we're ahead of everyone else," he finally answered, voice deadpan, eyes cooled to disinterest.

A look of irritation flickered across the older woman's face – clearly she wasn't pleased about having a hooligan in her class of younger, more impressionable minds. Still, she smiled sweetly. "We'll see how it tastes."

When she sauntered away, Aang was grinning ear to ear at the older boy and leaned closer to whisper, "That was AWESOME."

This time Zuko couldn't quite hide the flicker of a smirk that tugged at his mouth. "So predictable. Thinks she can read me with a single look." He glanced at the boy sitting next to him, then added. "I didn't break any  _kid's_  nose." It was almost, if Aang listened hard enough, a reassurance.

"I thought so!" Aang said with a sudden laugh, relief washing plainly over his features. "I guess we should clean up while it bakes..." He started piling the dishes into their sink. "How come you're taking this class now anyway, Zuko?" he asked curiously.

A subtle rolling of the eyes was Zuko's response to the return of Aang's enthusiasm, though he  _handed_  off the last of their dirtied cookware and started the water running. "Have to. To graduate." How exactly had it happened that he'd started answering the boy's questions? He hadn't meant to start -talking- to him.

"Well duh," Aang replied articulately, wiping down their work station. "But how come you didn't do it at your old school? Everybody here gets it out of the way first year."

"My old school doesn't have a home ec class," Zuko explained, with only a faint sneer.

"Really?" Aang asked with apparent surprise. "Then where do you learn how to change diapers and make a soufflé?"

Zuko was already bored with the conversation. "If it's important for us to learn it, we learn it," he answered, clearly intended to end the ridiculous line of questioning. "Why don't you check the oven?"

"Okay," Aang agreed readily, grabbing an oven mitt to peek in on the cakes which were starting to rise. "They're starting to look like cakes!" he announced triumphantly as he returned. Once the dishes were washed and drying, the younger boy flopped himself onto one of the stools at their now-spotless station. This meant that there was nothing left to them but conversation. "What do you like to do?" Aang asked abruptly. "Other than play video games alone, I mean."

Zuko wondered if the eye-twitch this kid inspired was going to become a chronic affliction. "I like sitting quietly. Meditating. Alone." There was an long pause, and Zuko thought, hoped maybe, that the boy had got tired of talking, but when he risked a glance, Aang was still sitting there, watching him, expectantly. He sighed, gave in. But only a little. "What do -you- do for fun, then?"

"A lot of stuff!" Aang said with a laugh. "I like soccer. And swimming -- but I REALLY like animals. Have you ever been to the zoo where you can ride an elephant or a camel? That's the BEST! Do you have any pets?"

"No," Zuko answered, glancing toward the oven almost desperately, waiting for the timer to buzz, anything to distract the kid from his incessantly friendly chatter.

"I have a cat and a dog," Aang told him happily. "Momo and Appa -- Appa's a Saint Bernard. He's big enough to pull a sled when it snows. Do you wanna hang out after school with me and Sokka? The girls have afternoon classes."

It was at that moment that karma decided to smile on Zuko, the baking timer suddenly blaring. Zuko jumped up from his stool, turning to pull the cake-tins from the oven, setting them atop the stove to cool while he searched for the pre-made frosting they were to use to complete their dessert. "Here, open this," he said, tossing the small tub at his cooking partner.

"This is the best part!" Aang said enthusiastically as he pried open the frosting. "Other than eating it anyway. Where do you live? Near school?" he asked, drawing a face into the frosting with the point of a spatula.

"Not really," Zuko answered, upturning one of the cake layers onto a large plate. It slid out perfectly and in one piece. "Up on the hill past the arcade." He passed the plate to Aang before tapping free the second layer. "Spread some on top of the first and then we'll add the second layer and frost the rest," he instructed.

Aang's eyes widened a little but he didn't comment or ask any questions about the very expensive neighborhood that Zuko lived in. Instead he hurried to slap a big glob of the frosting on top of the first layer to spread out. "You're good at this," Aang commented. "You sure there's no home ec at your old school?"

"My mother taught me," Zuko answered without thinking, sighed at his own lack of self-control. "Now we put the second layer," he hurried to continue, then rummaged for his own spatula to help speed the process.

The younger boy let Zuko apply the second layer since he seemed to have a steady hand and even fell quiet for a few minutes as they applied the outer layer of frosting.

"She's gonna feel really stupid when she tries this cake," Aang whispered to him finally with a grin, referring to their teacher.

Zuko made a face. "We have to give her some of it?" Had she said that already? He'd been trying not to listen too closely to her. It wasn't that he was worried she wouldn't like it; first of all, he didn't give a shit, and secondly, he knew the cake was fine. His objection came from a dislike of the thought that he had to give something he'd made to someone who would appreciate it no more than she appreciated his presence in her classroom.

"I guess to make sure we didn't use salt instead of sugar or something like that. To make sure we don't suck. I'm sure it'll be great though!"

"Hn," was Zuko's reply, and when their teacher's fire truck red lips closed grotesquely around a bite of their cake, he reminded himself of the "A" he needed. Even in Home Ec.

When the teacher had humphed her reaction with a nod and nothing negative to say, Aang grinned from ear to ear and thrust a tupperware with half of the cake in it into Zuko's hands. "I told you!" he was saying enthusiastically, hurrying to keep in step with Zuko when the bell had rung and students were making their way from the sweet-smelling classroom. "We should always be partners from now on!"

Zuko grunted noncommittally, but it wasn't exactly a no. He didn't reject the offered cake, either. Maybe his uncle would like it with his tea. The older man had always liked the sweets his mother made...

Aang's voice faded into the swarm of students in the hallways and Zuko broke away to head toward the front of the school. He wondered if his father had sent a car or would expect him to find his own way home today. Ozai's moods were difficult to predict.

His reverie wasn't broken until he stepped into the courtyard that was at the front of the school and he felt eyes sharply on him. The carved wooden sign that announced the school's name was at the front of the courtyard and from across it, he caught sight of the boy from before -- Sokka, as Aang had called him -- leaning against one post. And looking right at him with a brow raised.

Zuko scowled faintly; what was this guy's problem? Was he still bitter about the day at the arcade? He was about shrug it off, to turn away when a hand grabbed for his arm, and Aang's voice called out across the yard.

"HEY! SOKKA! OVER HERE!" The boy waved energetically, standing on his toes and grinning from ear to ear, seemingly heedless of the near-heart attack he'd just given his taller classmate. Zuko rubbed a hand across his face and stared down at the kid, tried to pry his fingers from his sleeve.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

"We were gonna hang out!" Aang reminded him enthusiastically while Sokka approached them cautiously.

"Where'd you find this?" he asked Aang, seeming to choose his words carefully but not THAT carefully.

"We have home ec together!"

"Ooooh, are you guys raising a baby together?" Sokka asked with a teasing grin.

Zuko frowned, turning his glare onto the young man who stared so smugly. "No," he answered, shortly, deciding this Sokka wasn't worth the effort of using any more words than necessary. He was about to add that he'd never agreed on this whole 'hanging out' thing, when Aang interrupted.

"We made cake!" the boy piped, holding out his half of the project with a smile that said he either didn't notice or care about Sokka's teasing. "Wanna try it?"

"Cake!?" Sokka repeated, expression drifting from sarcastic skepticism to delight instantly. "Hell yeah!" But then he aimed a suspicious eye on the new kid. "No arsenic?"

"Our teacher didn't die," Zuko answered. Then, "Unfortunately," he added with a bitter mutter.

"It's delicious!" Aang agreed, seeming not to notice Zuko's mumbled afterthought. "Zuko's a really good cook!"

Aang's compliment was met with awkward discomfort. "It's hard to fuck up cake," he explained.

Sokka quickly decided that this guy was not nearly as tough as he pretended to be. If cake made him uncomfortable. The tan boy eagerly accepted Aang's offering and pried the top off the tupperware as he turned toward the street. This left Aang's hands free to grab Zuko by the arm and drag him with them.

"Iff ffiff guy cmng wiff uff?" Sokka asked around a mouthful of chocolate, adding a jerk of his head to the pale kid in tow. He swallowed and seemed surprised. "This is really good!"

Zuko hid a satisfied smirk behind a cough and Aang beamed. "I invited him to hang out! Zuko said you guys have a class together!" There was a brief pause as Aang dragged Zuko after him to keep pace with Sokka. "Hey, you'd better save some for Katara too!" He looked just a little worried.

"Yeah, I guess we do," Sokka said, eyeing the other boy hard from the corner of his eye. He stole one more bite of cake then before returning it to Aang's safety with plenty left over. "Give some to Toph too or she'll kick my ass for eating her share." But then his attention was turned on the new addition to their Tuesday afternoon -- a ritual which he and Aang shared while the girls had their own extra-curricular activities.  "So you decided you're not too cool for us, huh?" Sokka asked a little challengingly, a little loftily. With arms folded over his chest, he fell into step on the other side of Zuko, the two of them flanking him. His attempt to look superior was somewhat ruined by the chocolate smeared on his face though.

Zuko grunted somewhat noncommittally. After all, he hadn't actually decided anything so much as been dragged along unexpectedly. "I walk this way too," he said, by way of explanation. "When I don't get a ride."

Sokka snorted, weighing his options. It was extremely tempting to spit less than kind comments at the other boy. But there were also rumors about him breaking bones and eating babies that stilled his tongue somewhat.

"I'm having dinner at Sokka's house!" Aang suddenly said with a cheer that startled both the older boys. "I bet he'd love you to come too!"

Sokka GAPED at Aang.

Zuko stared, honestly startled, then turned his attention to Sokka who seemed to be more or less speechless. He wasn't sure if that was agreement or not, but a sudden mischievous urge seized him and he offered a smirk as he met Sokka's wide eyes. "I'm sure he would." Then, back to Aang, "Sure, I'll come."

With a sputter, Sokka found his voice, his gaze reeling onto the dark haired boy who had joined them. "W-what?!" He grabbed Aang by the shoulder of his sleeve. "My grangran is making dinner tonight!" he hissed.

Zuko shot the protesting boy a look of mock hurt. "What? You don't think she'd approve? I assure you, I'm perfectly capable of being a complete gentleman." He spread his hands wide, placating.

Sokka stared at the older boy with blatant disbelief, still gripping Aang's shirt. Then finally he shook himself and released his friend. "Fine," he snapped, shooting Aang a LOOK. "But when my sister pitches a FIT, you're taking the fall!"

Aang just grinned, then turned around so he could look at Zuko as he walked backward along the sidewalk. "You'll like Katara," he added, "She's really nice." A person would have to have been blind to miss the light blush that touched Aang's cheeks just then. Of course, even that wasn't quite true, since to everyone --Toph included, Katara excluded-- Aang's crush on Sokka's sister was as obvious as it was innocent.

"Oh?" Zuko smirked. "I get to meet the whole family, hm?"

Sokka ducked away then, moving back to the other side of Aang and placed the younger boy between them. There was something decidedly devious about Zuko that was making him uncomfortable. "Yeah," he snapped irritably. "And be nice to my grandmother or she'll kick your ass. I'm not kidding."

Aang laughed merrily, oblivious to the discomfort. "Grangran's great."

Zuko coughed into his hand, covering a short laugh at Sokka's move to Aang's other side. It didn't seem to bother him in the least. He raised a brow at Sokka's glare. "Contrary to any rumors you may have heard, I do not, in fact, make a habit of beating the elderly. Seriously, who starts these things?" He shrugged, stuck his hands in his pockets and walked a little closer to Aang, just to see if Sokka would react.

"I'm not worried about you beating my grandmother," Sokka retorted, watching Zuko carefully. His shift in technique was unsettling, that he seemed to be trying to push buttons instead of give the cold shoulder. His irritation and suspicion were plain on Sokka's features. "I'm seriously warning you that she WILL beat you."

Zuko blinked at him, but recovered quickly. "I'm touched by your concern. But really, you shouldn't worry so much. I'm sure she'll like me."

"Sokka worries all the time," Aang put in cheerfully. Sokka elbowed him, embarrassed.

"Ah," Zuko nodded sagely, then leaned close to offer Aang a rather loud whisper. "I'm guessing he gets in trouble with his Grandmother pretty often?"

"That's not true!" Sokka protested, exasperated. He was going to get Aang back for creating this situation.

"Only sometimes," Aang confirmed with a shrug.

"That's not even any of your business!" Sokka continued, reaching around Aang to give the taller boy's shoulder a shove away from him.

Zuko acted quickly, a hand closing fast and hard around Sokka's wrist, holding the offending hand away, meeting Sokka's eyes for a dangerous moment before letting him go, correcting his steps to put another foot between him and Aang. "I don't recall saying you could touch me."

"Oh look!" Aang piped up, only a little nervously. "Here's the arcade!"

The next hour was an unpleasant one, Sokka irritable and pouting but nonetheless competitively challenging Zuko to whatever game they happened across. After wasting too much change on endeavors that only left his ego crushed and his spirits low, he was downright sullen with hands shoved in his pockets and half-hearted glares spared to the scarred boy that had ruined his afternoon. Aang meanwhile struggled between being impressed and exulting over Zuko's superior video game skills and consoling Sokka and attempting to get him to enjoy their schoolmate's company. Unsuccessfully.

When Sokka reminded the group that Katara would be getting home soon, it was decided that taking their leave from the arcade was definitely a good plan. Even so, as they stepped back out onto the sidewalk, Zuko looked up, stopped, and swore. "Shit..."

From a sleek black car, a man in a deep maroon suit and black tie stood and caught Zuko's eye. "Sir. We've been sent to give you a ride home."

Zuko frowned, shifted back a step. "I don't want it. You can go. I'm walking home today."

"But, Sir..."

"I -am- capable of finding my own way home," Zuko bristled visibly, scowling and avoiding the eyes of his two wary companions. "If my father asks, you can tell him I'll be back before dark."

The driver looked uncomfortable, especially when he glanced between the two confused looking boys that were keeping Zuko company. But before he could say anything else, the oldest of the three turned away and Aang and Sokka had to hurry to catch up with him, leaving the hemming driver behind.

"You really *are* from a rich family!" Sokka said, rather awed. "You don't look like it."

Zuko snorted vaguely. "Yeah, well. I used to." It was impossible to tell from his voice whether this was a good thing or a bad thing, but his lip curled faintly. When they were out of sight of the arcade, Zuko slowed his steps, allowing someone else to take the lead since he didn't, after all, know the way to their next destination.

Sokka and Aang shared a glance but Sokka fell into step to guide them, going around the block to avoid backtracking to the arcade. Their steps led them into a quiet neighborhood with humble houses and small yards.

"Sorry if we got you in trouble," Aang put in after a long stretch of silence.

"You didn't," Zuko shook his head. "Usually I'm better at avoiding them." He didn't dwell on the subject long, though, lifting his head to look around, trying to guess which house was Sokka's. After another block, the corner house painted a pale blue caught his eye. A flag pole jutted out from beside the door, dangling a brightly colored skyscape complete with puffy cloud and rainbow. "The blue one?" Zuko pointed, guessing, managed somehow to keep the smirk from his lips.

Sokka stared at him, startled. "How did you know?" Aang was laughing.

Zuko shrugged, all innocence. "Lucky guess."

Aang laughed harder. "I swear I didn't tell him!"

Confused, Sokka looked between his two companions, then at the house. And again. And then he flushed. "It's my GRANDMOTHER'S, you jerk!" he shouted at Zuko, fists balling at his sides.

It was impossible to completely stifle the snicker that slipped past Zuko's throat but he shook his head, lifted a hand in placation. "My Uncle has one too," he answered, a peace offering.

"I think it's neat!" Aang put in. "My favorite is the Halloween flag. It's got Dracula on it!"

Sokka harrumphed but didn't put up anymore protests as he opened the front door and kicked off his shoes.

"Is that you, Sokka?" a woman's voice called from inside. Sokka dumped his messenger bag by the door as well.

"Yes, Grangran," he called back into the house. "Aang's here too... and we brought a..." He glanced at Zuko. "We brought someone else for dinner."

With this announcement, an old woman with skin as dark as Sokka's but white hair pulled back into a severe knot appeared in the doorway of the foyer. Her face was relaxed but her eyes were sharp and instantly critical as they fell on her grandson's new acquaintance. "Who's this?" she demanded.

Zuko blinked, somewhat taken aback, but recovered with decent speed to offer the woman a polite smile and bow of the head. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ma'am. I'm Zuko. I'm a classmate of your grandson," he glanced back briefly at Sokka, ignoring the faint smirk that told him the boy was just waiting for him to step out of line and get smacked upside the head by the older woman. Aang meanwhile just seemed impressed with how polite the older boy could be when he wanted to.

"Hmm," Grangran murmured, her lips pursing. "Do you like salmon, young man?" she asked.

Before Zuko could answer though, behind them the screen door opened. "Hi!" came Katara's cheerful greeting -- until the three boys turned to look at her and Zuko's face startled her so much that she shrieked and stumbled backwards into the screen.

"Hey, Katara!" Aang chirped, and only Sokka noticed the slight nervousness with which he glanced between her and Zuko as he bounded forward to tug at her elbow. "Um... we brought home a new friend! Katara, this is Zuko! Zuko, this is Sokka's sister, Katara."

Zuko nodded, repeating the gesture he'd offered their grandmother, though his smile faded when he met the girl's eyes. It took a good amount of self control to resist the urge to pull his hood back up over his head, to tug it over his eye. "I startled you," he murmured, an apology of sorts, though mostly for the benefit of the older woman who still surveyed the scene with a sharp eye.

"No -- I -- well, yes," Katara said, looking everywhere except Zuko's face. Meanwhile Sokka was looking directly at Aang with a definitive 'I told you so' expression. "I just wasn't expecting to find you in my home," she tried to explain and then cleared her throat, gathering her pride to lift her chin. "Nice to meet you," she said quietly.

After a moment of tense silence, Grangran sighed heavily. "Dinner will be ready in a few minutes. Wash up and set the table." She left them without another word. Another moment passed. And then Sokka realized that if he didn't get out of there fast, Katara was going to pull him aside. And he hadn't been kidding when he said Aang was going to take the fall.

So suddenly he surged forward and grabbed Zuko by the arm, all but dragging him out of the room toward the front bathroom. "WE'REGONNAGOWASHUP."

"But--!" Aang started to protest, but the two older boys were already gone and he laughed quietly, awkwardly as he turned back to face his penance.

In the meantime, Sokka had dropped Zuko's arm the instant they were alone, and began to wash his hands while Zuko leaned against the door frame. "So. Does your little sister beat guys up too?" the taller asked, eyes sweeping around the sea-themed decor of the little guest bathroom.

"Yes," Sokka replied gravely. "It kind of runs in the family." He paused for a long moment, looking down at the running water. He wasn't going to *apologize* for her reaction. He'd be freaked out too if he came home and this guy was in his living room. But... "Don't mind her though. She just... she puts a lot of stock in things she hears. It's nothing personal."

"Ah," Zuko nodded sagely. "She heard about the gym fire and the shrine to Hitler. I -did- actually break a teacher's nose once, but I've never hurt a girl." He paused, uncrossed his arms and stuck them back into the front pocket of his hoodie. "Anything else you wanna know?" he asked, his tone of voice somewhere between amused and offended.

Sokka eyed him for a long moment, saying nothing as he dried his hands. But finally he rolled his eyes and switched places with Zuko, his back against the closed door. "I'm not afraid of you," he finally said. Everything that had come from the tanned boy's mouth until now had been whining or sarcastic and snappish. But these words were real -- they were genuinely confident and only a little challenging.

"Hmm," Zuko answered, wetting his hands and grimacing a little at the color the water turned. They were definitely lax in keeping that arcade clean. "Maybe not, but it's hard to be impressed by your courage when all you know about me is my face and the rumors your friends tell. Still," he continued, before Sokka could protest, turning from the sink to dry his hands. "It's nice to know you aren't gullible enough to be afraid of stories about baby eating. And believe me, burning buildings down? Way more trouble than it's worth."

"I don't expect you to be impressed by me," Sokka replied just a little snappishly. There was a certain war happening inside him -- the part of him that wanted to petulantly pick a fight and the part that realized that Aang was right. "You're just not nearly as tough as everybody thinks you are -- including you."

"Aw," Zuko intoned, making a valiant effort not to rise to Sokka's bait, intended or not. "Does this mean we won't get along after all? And here I've been just dying to have someone to eat ice cream with and tell all my secrets to." That he could deliver the words with a straight face and an utter lack of interest was somewhat impressive. "So what?" he continued, just a little annoyed now. "Are you disappointed that I'm not the crazy murdering arsonist who breaks arms and kills puppies? If that's your idea of 'tough', then I have to say I'm not sad to have failed to live up to it."

"I didn't say I was disappointed," Sokka said irritably, offering a glare when Zuko looked at him.

Zuko stared, now more than a little confused. For a brief moment there, he had seemed to be in the clear, 'not tough' quite pointedly landing him in the realm outside of 'type of guy Sokka likes' according to his source. With the tan boy's latest announcement, Zuko fell quiet, left doubting the reliability of his young Home Ec partner's information. "Then why did you say it like it was a bad thing?" he finally posed, frowning.

Sokka hesitated for a moment before he stepped forward and made a show of jabbing a single finger into Zuko's chest. "I was saying it so that you don't think you can bully any of us around!" he said hotly but the pink in his cheeks was painfully transparent as he tried to cover what had almost been a statement of kindness. "And just because you're not tough doesn't mean I'm gonna *trust* you -- so don't get any ideas because you might be better at video games but I'm not afraid to kick your ass in real life!"

Now Zuko did smirk, breathing a mental sigh of relief as the conversation was steered back to a direction he understood. Without hesitation, he clapped a hand around Sokka's, yanking the offending finger away. "Maybe one day I'll take you up on that challenge," he returned. "But right now, your Grandmother is serving us dinner and I'd hate to be rude and make her wait. Besides, weren't you supposed to set the table?"

Sokka's over-the-top glare faltered at this fact and he jerked his hand away. "Yeah yeah," he muttered. "Great, another bossy mouth in the group to tell me what to do..." In spite of this complaint though, he turned to open the door, leaving Zuko in the bathroom.

Zuko allowed himself a brief moment of satisfied victory before following, flicking the lights off as he went. As his footsteps carried him down the hallway toward the kitchen, he could smell the salmon, cooked and waiting and his stomach gave a grumble, urged him on.

Just as he was about to turn into the kitchen, though, a movement from the living room caught his eye and he stopped. "Ji? What are you doing here?" he snapped angrily at the red-suited driver who stood when Zuko entered the room.

The older man hesitated, clearly uncomfortable in his surroundings. "Your father sent me to retrieve you. He wants you to come home at once."

His three young acquaintances were in the dining room, in his view though lingering back. Aang looking sad and apologetic, Sokka uncomfortable and Katara disapproving.

Zuko frowned, pressing his fingers tightly to his brow, and took a centering breath. He might have been able to avoid his father's men, to postpone the ride home, to have the afternoon to himself, but a direct order from Ozai, that he couldn't refuse. No if he ever wanted to get back into his father's good graces. "Just... give me a minute, okay? And wait outside!"

Without waiting for an answer, Zuko turned from the man to enter the dining room, finding their grandmother's stern face and bowing his head once more, this time in apology. "Forgive me," he spoke, "It seems my father needs me home urgently..." he hesitated, his eyes flickering from Aang to Sokka and back to the older woman. "Thank you for your welcome."

"Hmmm," Grangran replied to him with a deep frown and then a sigh. "Wait just a moment..."

"Do you really have to go?" Aang asked pleadingly and Sokka elbowed him lightly in the arm, then cleared his throat.

"You can come another time," Sokka told him casually, earning an alarmed glance from Katara.

Before anyone could say anything else though, Grangran returned to the dining room and placed a tupperware of hot food in his hands. She gave him a light pat on the wrist and turned away to busy herself at the table. "Just a rain check," she drawled.

Zuko blinked, honestly startled, but managed to stutter out a polite ‘thank you’ before turning back to Aang. "I'll see you at school," he offered by way of parting words and met Sokka's eyes briefly as he turned, Grangran's meal clutched in both hands as he joined Ji on the front step and let the grey-haired man lead him to the car.


	3. Chapter 3

The ride home was thankfully silent; Zuko immediately slid shut the glass that separated him from his driver once he'd ducked into the back seat. The big black car was Ji's personal pride, though the man didn't, of course, actually own the vehicle. It belonged to Ozai. Not unlike Ji, himself, Zuko mused. Nevertheless, Ji wielded no such power to force Zuko to listen to another one of his moralistic lectures. He wasn't interested in being scolded for skipping his ride and if he could avoid even looking the older man in his disapproving face, so much the better.   
  
If, however, Zuko had intended on slipping quietly away to his room upon their arrival home, he was far too optimistic. This hopeful plan was thwarted by his father, who was waiting for him in the front sitting room, sitting with deceptively casual posture and a stern expression directed toward the far wall.  
  
"Zuko," Ozai said severely, addressing the subject immediately, his eyes suddenly and disturbingly snapping to Zuko's face. "What's this Ji tells me about you spending time with hooligans from that public school?"  
  
Zuko felt his mouth go dry, his school bag feeling suddenly much heavier on his shoulder. "They're just classmates," he answered, voice carrying not even half the power he'd hoped for. "And hardly hooligans," he added, quietly cursing Ji for the mouth he couldn't keep shut.  
  
One stoic brow lifted. "Ji said that one of them had a 'mohawk'," he said, deep voice rumbling. He paused for a long moment in such a way that Zuko knew better than to interrupt. When he spoke again his words were heavy. "I didn't realize how comfortable you'd become in the public school, Zuko."  
  
A chill took hold of Zuko's spine. He felt his throat tighten, but nonetheless tried to speak around it. His father was expecting an answer. "I-- no... Father, it's not like that. I-- I was just being polite. I didn't-- want to give Hakan a bad name... I tried-- tried to represent myself as you would have wished..." Panic rose unbidden in his chest as Ozai's face remained impassive, unresponsive. "That's all..."  
  
"Are you truly foolish enough to think that our family's reputation means anything to people living in the  _ghetto_?" Ozai said. He had a way of sounding incredulous while never letting his features betray him. Dark brows arched high, the older man peering hard at his son down the length of his nose, lips drawn in a thin line. But then he closed his eyes briefly and almost -- almost smiled. "But so be it, son. If you've found...  _friends_  that make you happy, I would not dare to remove you from them. From now on, Ji will be on call for you but I will not send him for you. You'll still have curfew, of course, but please. Spend your afternoons as you see fit."  
  
Zuko barely caught himself before he fell to his knees, a hand snapping out to grip at the back of a nearby chair. "Wh-what are you saying, Father?" he breathed. Ozai was never generous without motive, and there was something about the words he'd chosen that sank a stone in Zuko's stomach. "You-- you can't be--"  
  
"I can't be what, Zuko?" Ozai asked with disinterest. "I am merely offering you more freedom -- to make your own choices. You're growing up, it's time you started thinking for yourself more. Don't be so dramatic."  
  
While Zuko willed the sensation back into his legs, he struggled to harden his own expression, something to match the untouchable stoicism of his father. It was all he could think to do. "Thank you for your generosity, Father." He bowed his head and backed toward the staircase, slowly, in case Ozai should wish something else of him. "I won't disappoint you."  
  
"I'm sure you won't, son," Ozai said with even further dwindling interest. He was already standing, heading for his office, clearly finished with parenting for the day.  
  
Zuko paused only long enough to catch his breath before hurrying up the stairs and toward the relative security of his own room. Azula must have been out since her door stayed thankfully closed as he walked past, no taunting words tossed into the hallway.  
  
Zuko managed a breath of relief when his hand closed on his own door handle, and he pushed into the room without looking up, leaning back against the door until it clicked shut. Only then, with his eyes shut and his face turned to the floor did Zuko feel the touch of chill early evening air, and his head snapped up, knees bending into a defensive crouch.  
  
The silhouette in his window was, however, a familiar one, and Zuko stayed his hand, though refused to let down his guard. "Jet? Dammit, what the fuck are you doing in my room?"  
  
"That's how you greet me?" came the silky sort of response and the tall, lean figure hopped down from the window sill, worn canvas shoes meeting carpet. He flicked the dead butt of a joint out the window before shutting it behind him. A grin flashed in the dim light as he stepped closer. "Nice place."  
  
"Yeah," Zuko frowned, eyes narrowed. "It is." If his father or Azula were to discover the other boy in his room, there would most certainly be repercussions. Stepping past Jet, Zuko flicked on his stereo, turning up the volume just loud enough to mask their voices. "How the hell did you get up here without being seen?" he hissed, paused. "PLEASE tell me you weren't seen!"  
  
"Oh, come on. Give me a little more credit," Jet protested, his lazy gaze catching and holding Zuko's. "You know I'm stealthier than that. And it's not like I've never broken into a house in this neighborhood before. I knew you were rich but not THIS rich. And to think you never invited me over..."  
  
The stare Zuko offered back was pointed and sceptical. "Right, because that would have gone over real well. 'Hey Dad, meet Jet. He's a hacker and a thief who likes smoking, women and the occasional cocksuck.'" He crossed his arms over his chest, tried to ignore his own elevated heart rate, and prayed that Azula would stay gone just a little longer. "You should leave."  
  
"I came all this way and you're telling me to go?" Jet's sarcastic pout was not an unfamiliar expression. He moved closer, long fingers grabbing for Zuko's wrist when he started to move away. "Didn't you miss me? I know your rich ass ain't too good for me yet."  
  
"In case you forgot, I was expelled from Arbor High," Zuko bristled at Jet's words, but didn't shake off his grip, not willing to risk a fight that might be loud enough to catch the attention of his father. "An incident in which, if I recall, you played a key role. Did you think I would just forget about it?"  
  
"Hey, I left too," Jet said defensively. "I've taken plenty of shit in my time, Zuko -- not my fault it was your turn. But I left for you." His other hand closed in the front of Zuko's shirt -- he was too close. "And you've ignored and avoided me since I got to Rockwave. What's that shit about?" he hissed.  
  
"I'm trying to get my life back, Jet!" Zuko snapped, leaning away, but not getting far with the taller boy's hand clenched tight at his collar. "If my father found out about you, about what we did..."  
  
"Yeah?" Jet goaded. "Daddy'd be pretty pissed, huh?" Suddenly Jet yanked him to the side, shoving Zuko up against the wall. "Just chill out. Nobody's gonna find out anything," he snapped -- and then his mouth was on Zuko's, kissing him roughly and pressing him into the wall.  
  
Zuko struggled at first, digging his fingers into Jet's shoulder and grabbing at his hair, but when Jet slammed his back into the wall a second time, Zuko froze, suddenly aware of the vibration, the sound the contact had made. Ozai was sure to hear. It was very infrequent that he did not know everything that happened in his own house.  
  
Stern eyes found Jet's and he broke the kiss roughly, biting Jet's lip in the process. "You have to go," he hissed. "NOW."  
  
Jet scowled, tonguing at his bruised but not quite split lip. "Fuck you," he snapped, grabbing a fist full of Zuko's hair. "You don't know what I gave up for you, you little shit," he snarled quietly into the scarred face. "I left my school -- I left my GANG for you!"  
  
Zuko flinched, praying Jet kept his voice low enough for the static of the radio to muffle. "I never told you to do all that, Jet," he frowned, twisted, tried to work an elbow between them. "What did you think we had? A relationship?" he laughed quietly, harshly. "Does this look like romance to you? Let me go."  
  
The smaller of the pair could feel Jet bristle with his words, lithe frame tensing. "Shut up," Jet retorted, quiet but angry. "Don't flatter yourself. Like I'd want that with a richy-rich cocksucking brat like you!" Then he was dragging Zuko away from the wall, instead shoving him roughly onto the bed but somehow staying quiet in all his rage. The bed squeaked faintly as Jet climbed onto him, pressing him into the mattress with a hand under his shirt, nails digging into his stomach. "But you  _owe_  me."  
  
Zuko sucked in a tight breath, his own hands pressing at Jet's shoulders, holding him back, but his struggles were half-hearted, his fear of being heard and caught far more pronounced than his dislike for what Jet was doing. "I don't owe you anything, you self-righteous bastard," he growled.  
  
"Don't you?" Jet hissed. His fingers grabbing and hooking in the waistband of Zuko's pants -- he didn't go any further, just gripping there. Eyes were blazing, knees planted firmly on either side of Zuko's hips. "I haven't told a  _soul_  about what we did," he growled. "Not a word. Because I knew it'd get you kicked out on the streets. I didn't  _want_  to hurt you, Zuko." There was threat trembling through every tone that fell from Jet's lips.  
  
Zuko stomach sank and his hands, clenched hard at Jet's shoulders, shook, but he ceased his struggling and lay still, found and held Jet's dark eyes. "You wouldn't," he stared, disbelieving, sick at the thought.  
  
"I wouldn't want to," Jet breathed. The music from the stereo seemed to pulse in the otherwise silent room as Jet loomed over him. The tanned boy's eyes searched his face, utterly intense and they both felt more than heard when his thumb popped open the button on Zuko's jeans. "Zuko..." Jet's expression was utterly unreadable as he lifted a worn, smoke tinged hand to Zuko's pale cheek.  
  
Zuko turned away from his gentle touch, frowning deeply and refusing now to meet Jet's eyes.   
   
"Go lock my door," he said simply, emotionlessly.  
   
It took only a moment, the click of the lock not even reaching Zuko's ears over the music. And then Jet was there again and the light was dwindling, almost dark out. The hands that found him again were a little gentler, a little more careful but still demanding and firm. Jet's weight pressed him into the mattress as he wrung kisses from Zuko's mouth, short nails raking through his hair. His mouth implored the other's lips as though to convince Zuko to want it, his forcefulness hearkening back to days where it was a fight for which was more ferocious, who could get the other's clothes off faster.  
   
Now, though, Zuko didn't hurry, his need for careful and deliberate quiet overcoming the desire to get the whole thing over with as quickly as possible. It was no longer a search for approval or need for physical contact. It wasn't a fight and they weren't competing. It was just Jet, slightly off-kilter with some kind of desperation and otherwise impenetrable motives. And Zuko... Zuko just didn't want to get caught. He kissed back, but he didn't meet Jet's gaze. He took Jet's shirt off but he didn't flirt or offer a secret smirk. He undid Jet's pants and let him tug loose his own zipper, but he didn't moan or whisper pleasures when Jet found him hard.   
  
In spite of the urgency he'd arrived with, Jet seemed content to follow whatever pace Zuko set. Though there was no less hunger with his mouth on pale skin, scolded sharply into obedience not to leave a mark, he was only as forceful as was needed. His mouth was bitter with weed and it reeked in his hair but as always, it impeded nothing about him, neither emotion nor reflexes. Whispers reached Zuko's ears from his lips as he was pressed into the mattress, as Jet forced his way through all of his senses, murmured obscene praises that were eventually silenced with Zuko's mouth, his skin, his heat.   
   
Then again, that voice came in murmurs, in his ear as Jet covered him, squeezed them together, rocked against him just enough that the bed didn't creak. "Zuko..." he whispered, his breath hot in the shell of his good ear, panting quietly. His name spilled again and again, heated with need, with whatever it was that had driven Jet to his window. "Zuko... shit... shit..."  
  
Zuko's eyes were closed, his palms at Jet's neck and his fingers in his hair, his lips pulled into a thin tight line as Jet's quick hands and inarguable skill coaxed them both toward climax. Zuko made no sound, partly out of paranoia and partly from a stubborn determination not to give Jet the satisfaction. It was already enough, too much really, that he'd let the boy stay.   
   
Even when his body tensed, hands gripping and hips bucking, Zuko bit his tongue to silence, only a thin hiss of breath escaping his teeth as he gave in to the need of his body. Breathless moans quietly praised him, urged him, Jet's pleasure in him painfully obvious as the other boy's hips jerked into the pulse of his climax. Jet wasn't far behind him, adding to the mess on his stomach and chest before Zuko was even softening. He shook violently over Zuko, grabbing and gasping the other boy's name with a certain pointed self control that let Zuko know how he longed to pound roughly into Zuko's body. But it was enough -- and breathless, they tangled, messy and sweaty in silence.  
  
Zuko sank back, breathing heavily, fingers loosening from their grip to trail down Jet's arms until they fell limp to the messed comforter. He lifted an arm to brush the hair from his own eyes, and finally, reluctantly, opened them to meet Jet's half-focused gaze. "You should go now," he murmured, hardly more than a whisper, his face hard, giving away nothing.  
  
Something flickered through Jet's features -- maybe anger, maybe hurt. But either way, he quickly jerked away from Zuko in response. "Yeah, fine," he said, still just a little breathless. His body protested jumping into action so quickly and his knees were a little weak when he stood. He grabbed Zuko's shirt to clean himself with and threw it on the floor after. Dressing quickly, jerkily, he yanked his shoes on with a scowl. "See you in school, slut," he spat and left Zuko's window open when he slipped silently out.  
   
Zuko stayed on his back where Jet had left him until the taller boy was gone and he felt the touch of cool breeze across his bare stomach. Then he took a deep steadying breath and sat up, ran a hand through his mussed hair and looked down at himself, nose crinkling in distaste.   
   
When he'd cleaned up, he shoved his soiled clothes at the bottom of the hamper and turned off the stereo. Only when he was sitting once more at the edge of his bed, his skin clean and his breathing almost normal again, did he notice and remember the fish dinner that Sokka's grandmother had sent home with him, sitting expectantly on the floor beside his school bag. Despite the events of his evening, what bothered Zuko most in that moment was the loss of his appetite. It'd smelled so good too.


	4. Chapter 4

It was raining the following day, thick heavy sheets of water that found their way --with the help of strong winds-- under every overhang and soaking through every outdoor hangout, as well as turning the usual lunchtime patch of grass into a bog of mud. Needless to say, the the group was forced to take their lunch indoors.

Lucky for them, Sokka's history teacher was a trusting sort of man who spent his own lunches in the library and felt no qualms about allowing small handful of students to 'keep an eye on things' for him. His classroom was small and crammed full of strange paraphernalia, but it was warm and dry and better than sitting in mud.

Sokka was already crouched in front of Mr. Zei's convenient space heater in an attempt to get his pant legs dry again when Aang and Toph arrived, no less damp, but marginally more cheerful.

"Isn't it great?" Aang was grinning. "I hope they don't cancel P.E. today. We've got dodge ball!"

"Great," Sokka repeated incredulously, any sense of optimism watered down heavily with the rain. "We have a gym, you know. They'll probably stick you in there."

"Somebody's a mister grumpy pants today," Toph remarked. "Aang, is he soaked to the bone or is he just on his period?"

"Shut up, Toph!" Sokka protested in a whine, scowling down at his soaked jeans with mud soaked into the cuffs. "These are my favorite pants!"

"Aw," Aang was continuing, heedless of the exchange between his friends. "I hope they don't put us inside... Dodgeball is way more fun in the mud!"

Toph laughed and Sokka scowled, but neither of them had a chance to respond before the door opened again and Katara slipped inside, closing her umbrella and shrugging out of her heavy, fur-trimmed coat.  
"Wow, it's really coming down out there!"

"I know!" Aang bounded up to greet the other girl. "Isn't it great?"

Toph was flopping down beside Sokka with an elbow nudge. "Clothes *do* dry, you know," she commented as she started in on her meal.

Katara meanwhile grinned at Aang's enthusiasm as she let him lead her to the table they were sharing in the otherwise empty classroom. She gave one glance at Sokka and immediately knew his story. "You know, if you didn't wear your pants so long, this wouldn't happen."

"Okay, enough about Sokka!" the oldest of their group snapped, hardly in the mood for his sister's criticisms. "Oooo, you guys are right! I love the rain!" he agreed with them in faux sweetness and took a  
violent bite of his sandwich.

Even Aang cast his older friend a concerned glance. Sokka wasn't usually so easy to goad into annoyance. "Maybe Mr. Zei will lend you an umbrella?" he suggested, trying to fight off the sneaking suspicion that wet clothes weren't the full source of Sokka's mood.

Toph raised an eyebrow. "What's eating you, Cupcake?"

"Nothing," Sokka said irritably.

"He's been trying to convince Suki to come visit for spring break and she doesn't want to," Katara said and when Sokka choked and sputtered at her, she continued, "What? You were gonna tell them eventually."

"Isn't Suki your WoW girlfriend?" Toph asked, tossing a dried pea into the air and catching it in her mouth with uncanny accuracy.

"Why doesn't she want to come?" Aang blinked, starting to breathe a little easier now that he was sure Sokka wasn't mad about him bringing Zuko to dinner.

Sokka blustered, embarrassed but he answered, giving his sister dirty looks which she shrugged off. "I don't know! She just doesn't! She said it's too soon and it's too expensive even though I offered to pay  
for half the ticket."

"Sounds like she's just not that into you," Toph offered with characteristic bluntness.

"That's not true! We've been talking every day for like six months!"

"'Talking' and 'sharing experience points' are not the same thing," Katara pointed out. She'd never entirely approved of her brother's love of the game, or the people he met there.

"I bet 'Suki' is really like... 300 pounds and balding and a 45 year old dude," Toph nodded sagely and ate another pea.

"THAT'S NOT TRUE, EITHER!" Sokka shrieked, nearly choking on his sandwich. "She's sent me pictures! She's really cute!"

"It's okay, Sokka!" Aang piped up. "We'll do something really fun for spring break."

Sokka sighed but didn't argue. He just suspected that Aang's idea of fun didn't include bikinis or french kissing.

Toph sensed that a change of subject was in order, and though she didn't exactly -sympathize- with Sokka, she didn't much care for the awkward silence that his issues had brought to the room. "So..." She began, reaching out with a toe to poke Aang in what was supposed to be his shoulder and ended up being his ear. "Where's this cake you promised me? The best cake ever? Made with love at the hands of a genuine deliquent? You've got my expections up, Twinkle Toes. Time to deliver." She held out her hand, palm up.

"Oh!" Aang started, hurrying to dig in his bag for the last piece of his and Zuko's cake which had been saved for Toph. "I forgot," he apologized as he handed the container over to her.

"I wonder if that guy got in trouble for coming over," Sokka mused idly as he licked mustard off his fingers, grateful for the momentary shift of topic.

"I can't believe you guys did that without me," Toph said in as close to a pout as the girl ever came. "Inviting a hardened criminal into your home and not even letting me witness the death match between him and your gramma."

"He's not a criminal!" Aang protested,  frowning dramatically though the expression was wasted on her. "He's really nice! And he was very polite to GranGran, wasn't he Sokka?" Despite his words, Aang carefully avoided meeting Katara's eyes.

"I think he was just scared of her," Sokka drawled but when Aang shot him a Look, he ammended, "But he was pretty polite. I mean, more than I thought he would be."

"I dont know WHAT you two were thinking," Katara suddenly snapped. "Now he knows where we live!"

Aang pouted visibly, looking desperately to Sokka for support. "He's not a bad guy! I keep telling you! I can tell! Besides, he told me that the rumor about breaking a kid's arm wasn't true!"

"What's wrong, Sugarqueen?" Toph snickered. "Afraid he's gonna break in and steal your dollies?"

"He could tell you anything!" Katara protested, ignoring Toph's prodding. "He could tell you he feeds babies at orphanages on the weekends, would you believe that?"

"He did tell me that the Hitler shrine rumor wasn't true," Sokka put in helpfully.

"Oh my god. He heard my rumor? I am so awesome," Toph exulted.

"He doesn't feed orphans or cure cancer," Aang cried. "I'm not saying he's a hero! I just think he's a normal kid like us and no one is even giving him a chance!"

"Is he ugly?" Toph piped up. "I bet he's ugly. Katara only trusts cute guys."

"He's actually pretty good looking." Everyone stopped abruptly to stare at Sokka. "What?! I mean, if you look at him like this." He used a hand to shade the side that Zuko's scar was on and turned his head in profile.

Katara had been about to protest Toph's assessment of her character, Aang had been about to object at Toph's harsh language. Toph had sat back and waited for the sweet, sweet sound of Katara's high decible shriek of rage. And Sokka's words had brought all of it to a halt.

"Y-yeah!" Aang recovered first. "I mean no! I mean... there's nothing wrong with his scar!"

"I bet it makes him look rugged and <i>manly</i>," Toph contributed with a smirk. "Don't you think? Sokka?"

"I guess so?" Sokka replied, his brows quirking with confusion and thoughtfulness. "I dunno, I think it's kind of cool."

Toph couldn't handle it anymore and started laughing hysterically.

Katara palmed her face.

"WHAT?!" Sokka demanded with exasperation.

Aang was looking equally confused, though relieved that Sokka, at least, seemed to be on his side now, even if Katara was still annoyed about the day before.

"Oh-- oh-- oh my god," Toph choked out between fits of laughter, wiping the tears from her eyes as she tried to rein in her mirth. "Stop, just-- just stop, I can't take it. It's too good. Oh-- oh fuck."

"Toph!" Katara scolded. "Don't swear!"

"No-- no wait," Toph held up a hand, took a breath and grinned. "I'm curious about something, Sokka. On the side of his face that's all messed up... is his eye still green?"

"Huh? Green?" Sokka repeated. "Actually -- they're kind of gold. Same for both... it's pretty unusual."

Toph screamed with laughter all over again and by now, Katara was becoming embarrassed for her oblivious brother and gave the other girl's shoulder a shove. "Knock it off, Toph. It's not that funny."

Aang meanwhile leaned close enough to cup his mouth and whisper to Sokka, "Girls are weird." The older boy nodded sagely.

"Au contraire," Toph was saying to Katara, clicking her tongue and shaking her head haughtily. "I find it remarkably amusing. Maybe we can find this guy a mask and he can teach Sokka to sing. Oh! Do you think we can get your brother into one of your dresses? I bet he'd fit, he's pretty scrawny..."

Before waiting for Katara's answer, Toph jumped to her feet, sliding smoothly to stand beside Sokka's chair and, covering one eye, she reached for and took his hand, bringing the boy's tanned knuckles to her lips and kissing the air above them reverently. "My dearest," she intoned, dropping her voice to a ridiculously deep octave. "Won't you... help me make sweet music of the night?"

Sokka offered a pained and confused look at his sister. "Katara, what the hell is she talking about? AND HEY! I'm NOT wearing a dress, Toph, we've been over this before!"

Katara groaned, dragged Toph away from her brother and sat her, giggling and clutching her stomach, back down. "Do you even hear yourself when you speak?" she turned back to Sokka, palms spread helplessly. When he only stared blankly at her, Katara pinched the bridge of her nose and took a steadying breath. "Sokka, you're talking like you <i>like</i> the guy, okay? My god, how can you possibly be this embarrassing," she added, muttering.

"What!" Sokka yelped, nearly pitching his chair over backwards. "No I'm not! I was just stating facts! Girls talk about how pretty other girls are all the time!"

Even Aang had to stifle a giggle at the irony of *that* statement.

"Well you're definitely the prettiest girl -I've- ever seen," Toph said, with complete sincerity, reaching over to pat Sokka's knee.

Sokka scowled at her deeply and Aang piped up, trying to break the tension. "How's the cake, Toph?"

"It's pretty good. But not as pretty as Sokka..."

"OKAY ENOUGH ALREADY!" The blind girl was grinning as Sokka shoved the contents of his bag back into place in a temper-trantrum like manner. "I'm outta here!" Sokka was perhaps not at the peak of his maturity when he threw his bag over his shoulder and stormed out of the room in a huff.

"Methinks the lady doth protest too much," Toph quipped and innocently took a bite of her cake.

Aang blinked as the door slammed shut behind Sokka and then turned back to the girls. "'Like' as in <i>like</i>, like?" he asked, clearly confused.

Katara groaned and flopped across a desk, face pressed into her arms in defeat.

"I'll... berightback!" Aang stood suddenly, grabbing his own bag and bolting out the door.

By the time he made it to the hall though, Sokka was out of sight and he hurried around a corner. No luck. After trying two more corners, he spotted their new friend in the sparse students still wandering the halls during lunch break and jogged to catch up with him. "Hey! Hey Zuko!" he called and managed to catch the older boy's sleeve before he could duck into a classroom. "Have you seen Sokka?"

Zuko searched Aang's worried face with a disinterest. "No," he shook his head. "Seems like he's too loud to lose though. Kidnapped?" he guessed, face unmovable stone despite the humor in his words. "Did that sister of his beat him up?"

"No," Aang answered, paused. "Not yet. Where are you going? Did you eat yet?" he asked. Apparently whatever reason he needed Sokka wasn't that important. Or the boy just had an extremely short attention span.

"Mm," Zuko nodded. "I ate." Since it didn't seem likely he would easily shake Aang from his shadow, Zuko turned to face him fully and hefted his school bag higher on his shoulder. "It's dry and quiet in the music rooms," he explained, not entirely certain why he'd shared this with the younger boy.

"Oh." Aang blinked up at him for a moment and then grinned broadly -- Zuko was really opening up already. "Do you play an instrument?" he asked.

"Not for a while," Zuko answered, his steps already moving again, intent on getting out of the chill and into a warm room. "Cello, piano, a little flugal horn. My father made me learn." He broke off abruptly, his pace quickening as the music room door came in sight.

Aang had been following him, just a step behind but he hesitated a little for a moment before he caught and tugged Zuko's sleeve. "Is it okay if I come with you?" he asked and when he was able to catch Zuko's eye, there was an understanding there. As pushy as Aang was, he was able to understand the desire to be alone sometimes.

Zuko blinked, startled by the question, not expecting it from Aang. "Y-yeah, it's fine," he heard himself say, his hand on the door handle, even as the words left his mouth, wondering why he was saying them. Had he fallen so easy for the kid's wierd sort of charm?

Shaking his head a little, he let them into the room, still and quiet, with cabinets full of instruments and a wide open hardwood floor with scattered chairs and sheet music stands for practice. He closed the door behind Aang and watched the younger boy look around. "The music room," he announced, needlessly.

"It's nice," Aang said as though Zuko were letting him into his own house. He flopped down into a chair. "Did you give your cake to anybody, Zuko?"

Zuko joined him shortly, crossing his arms over the back of the chair he straddled and looking quietly thoughtful. Even with the chatty kid's presence there was something about the peaceful quiet of the room that was immensely comforting. "My uncle," he answered at length.

Aang blinked once and then grinned again. "That's cool. I don't have any uncles -- or anything like that. But Katara and Sokka's family are sort of like that to me." He was talkative but nothing like the afternoon they'd spent together before -- his words didn't race haphazard from his lips. He paused to breathe and for breaks of silence. "Everyone really liked it -- the cake, I mean. Sokka and Toph and Katara all tried it."

Zuko nodded, recognizing the boy's praise, but clearly not used to taking genuine compliments. He rubbed idly at his neck and looked around the room as though searching for instructions on small talk.  
"So... why were you looking for Sokka?" he tried, eyeing the curves of a tuba case in the corner.

"Oh -- I just wanted to talk to him cause he was all mad. Toph was teasing him and he's having a bad day, I think. Toph thinks his online girlfriend is a guy." Aang was shaking his head.

Zuko almost laughed at this, but managed to steel his expression into only mild interest. "Online girlfriend, huh?" he wondered, with something like relief. "I wouldn't have pegged him as the type." He couldn't quite keep his lips from quirking faintly.

Aang shrugged. "Katara says it doesn't count because all they do is play World of Warcraft together -- and they've never actually met. She bugs him about trying to date people in real life. Do you have a girlfriend or anything, Zuko?"

Zuko shook his head, pushed the thoughts of Mai from his mind. The events surrounding his expulsion from Hakan had driven a wedge between them, starting a rift that only widened with the difficulty in finding time to spend together and Azula encouraging, nursing the conflict between them. Ultimately he'd decided that a break up was the best thing for everyone. And then at Arbor, there'd been Jet. But Zuko didn't know what that had been, what to call the time he'd spent in Jet's company. There hadn't been a name for it then, and there certainly wasn't now. Except maybe 'mistake'. 'Learning experience' if he was feeling generous.

"No," he finally said. "No girlfriend or 'anything'."

Aang fell silent for a long moment, thoughtfulness clear on his face, along with hesitation. Then he added, "Sokka had a 'real' girlfriend. She died. She had cancer."

Zuko seemed surprised by this, forgot to keep his face unreadable. His expression hardened perceptibly. "Maybe he's not ready," Zuko considered. "To 'date people in real life' again."

"Maybe," Aang agreed quietly but then his voice rose to normal conversation, easily leaving behind the heavy topic. "Besides -- we're just teenagers! Why should we have to hurry into all that?! I mean -- girls are great but it's not like we have to date RIGHT NOW.... right?" There was something resembling hopefulness on his features.

A brief silence and a raise of the brow followed Aang's sudden outburst and Zuko watched him for a moment before answering. "Yeah, of course. I mean, you're what... 13?" Zuko shrugged. "Don't worry about it. Besides, she'll come around."

Aang stared at him for a long moment, blinking as his face flushed a bright pink. "Y-Yeah!" he stuttered finally in agreement and then grinned as though Zuko had given him new hope for the future. Then, as though to return the favor, he said cheerfully, "At lunch, Sokka said you were good-looking."

If Zuko had been eating, he would have choked on his lunch. As it was, he managed, somehow to choke on a swallow of air. During the brief ensuing coughing fit, he tried to imagine what could possibly be going on in the brain of Aang's taller friend. One minute he had a dead girlfriend, the next, he thought Zuko was 'cool' and ... 'good-looking'.  "Excuse me?" Zuko finally managed. A pause and a deep breath and Zuko was looking faintly suspicious. "He said that." The skepticism in his voice was evident.

"Yeah," Aang said easily with a nod. "It's part of why he was getting teased but I mean..." He trailed of with a shrug. He didn't see what was so funny about it, himself. Sokka was just being nice. He tried to remember the details of what Sokka had said -- after all, Zuko had it pretty rough and Aang thought that it only fair and kind for him to hear if someone said something nice about him. "I think he likes your eyes," he concluded.

"My -eyes-?" Zuko stared. Internet girlfriend, dead girlfriend or whatever aside, if this guy kept saying stuff like this... Zuko rubbed at his temple, rested his chin on one arm again. If Aang was right-- Zuko was already exposed to plenty of confused sexual identity issues with Jet; he didn't need or want to deal with -more-. "Does he... usually say stuff like this? About other people?"

Aang had to think about that for a moment -- Sokka wasn't usually mean or anything. He could be pretty critical and tended to be suspicious of people before he got to know them. Aang saw him as a person who took his time getting close to others but was very loyal when he did. "I guess not," he said at length, then paused. "Oh! Except about wrestlers."

"...Wrestlers," Zuko intoned and --not for the first time since letting Aang talk to him in Home Ec-- wondered what he had gotten himself into.

"Yeah, I don't get it either," Aang seemed to agree. "It's all fake, everybody knows it!" The bell chose that moment to ring.

***

Forty minutes later, Zuko was staring at the back of Sokka's head, only half-listening as Mr. Zei exalted on the topic of Mayan architecture. Though he usually sat near the rear of the classroom, today he'd slipped into the seat behind Sokka. He didn't think the other boy noticed, or if he did, he was steadfastly ignoring the silent attention.

It wasn't that Zuko's -pride- would have minded exactly, were the strange boy attracted to him. Practically, it might have been an inconvenience and he wanted nothing less than a replay of his tryst with Jet. But what really -bothered- him was how impenetrable Sokka seemed. It was impossible to get into his head, to figure out if he was just a normal guy who liked wrestling and shopping or if the things Aang had repeated meant something other that the obvious: that Sokka was just an oblivious idiot. And if so, what then? How to avoid Jet, Take 2?  
With a quiet groan of frustration, Zuko ran his hands through his hair and tried to concentrate on Mr. Zei's lecture.

His eyes were drawn back though to the boy in front of him with the movement of his head -- he was nodding. Then he jerked slightly, sat up straighter. Shifted, restless -- propped his head up. The ridiculous ponytail at the back of his head bobbed again and Zuko watched as his frame slumped, weight falling onto the cheek resting in his palm against the desk. Sokka seemed to be an expert at falling asleep in class.

"Before monday," Mr. Zei was saying, as cheerful and overly enthusiastic as always. The way he spoke sometimes was as though he were teaching six year olds instead of seventeen year olds. "You and your partner will need to visit the Human History Museum -- you will receive a disposable camera and a vocabulary sheet. I want you to photograph examples of the items on your list -- one photo per item. You'll also include a two page paper based on the photograph of your choice. Please use the rest of our class time, students, to pair up and make your plans."

Zuko groaned; Mr. Zei was overly fond of group-work. He glanced around the room, and remembered, gratefully, that there was an odd number of students in the class, so all he had to do was wait for everyone else to find a partner and then he was free to pursue the project on his own.

"Hey," he called quietly, reaching out to poke Sokka in the spine with the end of his pencil. "Wake up. Go find a partner. Hey."

Sokka grumbled quietly, his free hand waving feebly, nose wrinkling. But when Zuko poked him again, it sent a chill up his spine and he fell off his propping hand. Zuko could hear the THUMP as his forehead connected with the desk. Slowly he sat up, groaning miserably and rubbing his bruised face. "What the hell?" he grumbled, looking over his shoulder at Zuko.

"Go find a partner," Zuko repeated, more slowly this time and pointed at the white board where the words 'Human History Museum Adventure!' were happily scrawled.

Even from a class nap, Sokka was slow to wake and it took a moment of rubbing at an eye to comprehend the words on the board. Finally he said, "Oh..." And gave himself a shake before looking around the room. But by then, everyone had settled into talking in pairs around the room. Mr. Zei caught his eye with a smile and approached Sokka.

"Sokka," he began, "I know Haru has had the flu. I'm going to exempt him from the museum part of the assignment, but I know he lives in your neighborhood so perhaps you could allow him to use one of the photos that you and Zuko take for his paper?"

"Uh." Sokka stared up at the teacher. "Sure?"

"Excellent!" Mr. Zei said cheerfully and gave Sokka a clap on the shoulder and Zuko a friendly smile before returning to his desk. Zuko stared after him for a moment before glancing around the room as though to confirm the teacher's words. One missing... He palmed his face in disbelief. Without Haru, it was an even number and with Zuko avoidant and Sokka napping, it made them the last two.

"You do realize that you're supposed to sleep at, you know, night time," he mumbled to the boy in front of him.

"I know that!" Sokka grumbled, then sighed and shifted his chair around to face Zuko's desk. "This class gets really boring, is all," he muttered. "I've already read all the material he's going over. Anyway, I guess we're going to a museum?" Ugh, a whole afternoon alone with this guy? Maybe he could convince Aang to join them. Or send Toph in his place. Zuko surely wouldn't notice.

"Yeah," Zuko answered, equally unenthused. "Are you free this afternoon?" Might as well get the whole thing over with as soon as possible, he decided. Luckily the park was only a short distance away, and the museum just beyond that. A ten minute bus ride at most according to the sheet Zei had given them. Zuko frowned at the idea of public transportation, but it was better that than let Ji tell his father he was 'hanging out' with the kid from the 'ghetto', school project or no.

"Sure, I guess," Sokka said and gave a tiny sigh as he got out his phone to text Katara so that his family would know he'd be late getting home. "You usually do these things alone," he remarked as he punched at the keys. Zuko's tactics for avoiding group work were so obvious and he knew that part of Mr. Zei's smile for him was that they were working together. "Are you going to be able to play well with others?" he asked, glancing up at the other boy with a lifted brow.

"Are you going to do your part and not slack off?" Zuko answered easily, returning the look.

"I'm not a slacker," Sokka said defensively. "Just because you saw me fall asleep in class doesn't mean I'm lazy." Loftily snapping his phone shut, he added, "In fact, you're a lot better off working with me than anyone else in this class."

"Maybe," Zuko allowed. "I guess we'll see." The faint hint of a smirk taunted Sokka as Zuko began packing his things away, the bell to signal class's end only a handful of minutes away. When all that was left on his desk was his notebook and a pen, Zuko picked up the latter and wrote something down while Sokka looked on suspiciously. "It's my number," Zuko said simply and pushed the scrap of paper to the edge of his desk. When his explanation was met with a blank look, Zuko elaborated. "You know... so we can get in touch to meet up after school?"

"Oh -- right." Sokka glanced at the number and then shoved the paper into his pocket. "See you then, I guess," he said as the bell rang.  
   
"Right," Zuko answered vaguely, lifting his hand in a half-hearted wave. "See you."

While Sokka grabbed a camera and booked it out of the classroom, Zuko lingered, gathering his things and glaring at the way Mr. Zei had dotted the 'i' in "history" with a smiling star. He didn't remember which of his classmates was the kid named Haru, but as far as Zuko was concerned, the guy had definitely not made a good first impression.


	5. Chapter 5

For the rest of the afternoon, Sokka sent Aang a few text messages, hoping that the younger boy might skip his judo class to go with them. But apparently Aang's phone was off, or Aang just HATED him because the other boy wasn't responding. So when school got out and after a brief phone call to Zuko, Sokka waited at the front of the school armed only with his umbrella against the still steady rain. 

It was to the immense relief of both boys when each saw that the other was equipped with his own umbrella. At the very least there would be no awkward attempts at sharing something that was hardly big enough for one person to begin with. 

"Hey," Zuko said when he was close enough to be heard over the rainfall. "Ready?" 

"Yeah," Sokka replied, and fell into step with Zuko, together making their way to the corner. The bus picked up every fifteen minutes, so their wait wouldn't be a long one. "So not that I really MIND-- but why exactly are we taking the bus when you have a personal driver?" he inquired. 

Zuko stole a glance from the corner of his eye before he went back to looking out at the street. "Not that it's any of your business," he answered, mirroring Sokka's own faintly haughty tone, "But my 'personal driver' reports everything I do to my father, and I'd rather avoid his... watchful eye for a few more hours at least." 

"Oh," came Sokka's flat reply, clearly with no intent of arguing. He was mostly just curious anyway. 

The bus ran through the residential area outside the park and was therefore crammed full of highschool students on their way home. It was an uncomfortable ride, standing shoulder to shoulder in a bus full of damp kids. Even with the rain still coming down, it was a relief to step out of the cramped bus. Their student IDs got them in to the museum for only a few dollars, and it was quite nice inside once they shook the clinging drops out of their hair. 

"Dinosaurs," Sokka announced immediately and made a sharp bee-line to the right without waiting for Zuko. 

Zuko blinked, startled by the sort of sudden behavior he'd come to expect of Aang, but wasn't expecting of Sokka. So far, the other boy was not doing a very good job of proving himself to be any better than the rest of the slackers in their class. Quickly closing his umbrella, Zuko hurried after him. 

It was his first time in this building; Hakan had its own private collection of anthropological artifacts for student study, and he'd never had the need nor opportunity to explore the public museum. He was impressed, despite himself, as he stepped into the prehistoric wing, craning his neck all the way back to see the under-jaw of some great reptilian giant. 

He lingered only a moment, though, and began to scan the room for his wayward partner. 

"You're slow," Sokka's voice startled him, appearing right at his side. "I was looking over the list this afternoon, and even though there's mostly stuff about animals and fossils in here, there's some very relevant Neanderthal exhibits that'll fit the assignment." He was unfolding his copy of the sheet which had notes all over it as well as a hand-drawn map of the museum complete with numbers that corresponded with the words on the list. There was also a second list of the numbers, which were arranged according to the rooms in the museum, listing them in what would map out a counter-clockwise pattern. 

It was hard to help the surprise that crossed Zuko's features as he looked down at Sokka's intricate notes. And although he didn't have to say it aloud, he was forced to admit that his earlier assessment of the other boy's academic intentions might need reconsideration. 

"You come here a lot," Zuko guessed as they began their trek, camera in hand and ready to point and shoot. 

Sokka hesitated and cleared his throat. He had a feeling Zuko was going to peg him as a geek and do nothing but pick on him if he told too many truths. Even if they were learning more about him, they hadn't completely disproved that Zuko didn't have bully tendencies. "It's a more interesting place to study than the library," he finally said, giving a casual shrug and adding a little more swagger to his step as though compensate for his words. "Now's a really good time for this project -- the Aboriginal tools and weapons exhibit that they're hosting right now is great." 

"Weapons?" Zuko echoed, mostly failing to keep the interest from showing in his voice. He stepped closer to look over Sokka's shoulder at the notated map. "Where is it?" Considering the amount of time he, himself, spent in the library between classes and before school lately, determined to make the grades his father expected, he could hardly fault Sokka his knowledge of the museum. 

"The Aboriginal exhibit?" Sokka asked, glancing at Zuko with more than a little surprise. "Back here. This hall is for visiting exhibits..." 

Zuko looked down at the list of themes they were supposed to photograph and nodded. "We should go check it out. Looks like it closes earlier than the rest of the museum," he added, pointing to a nearby sign advertising the traveling exhibit. 

Sokka eyed the sign as though it had offended him. It threw a wrench into his perfectly formulated plans. But... he wasn't adverse to visiting the room first. They'd just have to make up for lost time with speed. "Yeah, okay," he finally said, and jaunted into step, leading the most efficient way through the museum. He looked curiously at Zuko from the corner of his eye, until he was caught, and quickly turned his gaze ahead again. "So do you like history or just violence?" he wondered. 

Zuko quirked a brow at the question, hurried to catch up with the other boy's quick steps. "I'm interested in the history _of_ violence," he offered, a third option, and Sokka almost caught the smirk of humor that Zuko let slip. Then, "Ah-- look out," and he grabbed for Sokka's shoulder, hauling him to the side just in time to prevent the other from tripping over a small child single-mindedly scampering toward the dinosaurs. 

The boy's mother hurried to catch up with him, offering the two high schoolers an apologetic smile as she passed. Sokka snickered and shook his head. A pause made him realize that Zuko's hand was still on his shoulder and he quickly shrugged it off, ducking away and clearing his throat. "Thanks," he said nonchalantly, turning his attention to putting his hand-made map away. He didn't voice the realization that if Zuko was actually a bully, he would never have pulled such a move. Little by little, he was gaining a better understanding of the other boy's character. "This way," he said with a nod as he ducked around a corner. 

The exhibit was in a wide, open room, and the walls were lined with glass cases displaying spears and clubs, bows, arrows, snares, and boomerangs. Sokka didn't bother quelling his grin as they approached the first display which was set with clubs of varying sizes inlaid with animal teeth. Sokka sighed happily. "So deadly," he all but swooned. 

With Sokka's attention elsewhere, Zuko allowed himself a small smirk at the other boy's enthusiasm. "And what about you?" he asked, moving on to eye a particularly fierce-looking weapon with rows and rows of obsidian shards, a weapon which could both pummel -and- shred flesh. "The history or the violence?" Given Sokka's awe-filled murmur just moments ago, Zuko couldn't believe the other's interest was purely academic. 

Sokka sniffed faintly, pausing in front of a thick bow that was nearly as tall as the two boys. "The art," he said loftily and when he caught Zuko's skeptical look, he grew sheepish. "Seriously, though! It's like... sure, guns are cool; modern weapons are amazing marvels of science. But stuff like this... it's really different -- it's about the PROCESS, the skill and the absolutely perfected procedure that was used to implement it. There's just something about the artful but scientific simplicity of these things, like the perfect tension of a bow or--" And here he grinned and very nearly pressed his face to the glass of the next display. "The precisely carved shape of a boomerang." He was absolutely simpering. 

It took almost more self-control than Zuko possessed not to burst into laughter at Sokka's speech, but he managed to control himself with only a brief cough into his fist. Joining him at the case, Zuko looked over the aforementioned piece of wood, carved into a streamlined v-shape. It didn't look very impressive, but he didn't say so. "It's cool," he agreed with a nod, "but what's really beautiful is a sword. Or two." He bit back the smile that threatened; his eyes, though pointing forward, no longer looked at the glass or what lay behind it. "But you know what any exhibits like this lack? What they can't really express? It's the beauty of a weapon in the hands of a master. Hanging on the walls, they're just bits of wood and metal and bone. But in a fighter's hands, that's when they become art."

Sokka was nodding as they moved on to the next exhibit, nearly a dozen spears of varying lengths and styles and materials. "I agree. I mean, the craftsmanship in itself is something amazing but that's only a tiny piece of what it is, right?" He paused and arched a brow at Zuko, catching his eye in their reflections in the glass. "But swords, really? What's so interesting about that? Anybody can do damage with a sword. Give my eighty year old grandmother a three foot knife and she'll kill something. But THAT--" He grabbed Zuko by the arm, and dragged him to one of the free-standing displays where more boomerangs were laid out. These ones were huge and looked heavy, with points carved into the curve. "Try using a sword to take down a two hundred pound animal RUNNING thirty yards away with a single blow to the head!" 

Zuko smirked faintly. "I have a suspicion that your grandmother could take down a seasoned fighter with her bare hands, so no argument there." He crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at the boomerangs with mild interest. "I guess that's pretty cool, but personally, I don't like the idea of having to let go of my weapon for it to be effective. I mean, what do you do after throwing it? Unless you've also studied some other form of fighting or martial art, after you throw that thing, you're helpless until it comes back. With a blade... it's there and tangible and maybe anyone can hold a sword, but it takes skill to wield a blade. Also, what you're talking about, killing animals, that's survival. I'm not talking about finding food, I'm talking about... beauty. Sword fighting is efficient and precise, artistic, never messy if you're good." Zuko turned just enough to catch the edge of Sokka's vision. "You should try it sometime." 

Sokka met his gaze for a long moment, expressionless. Considering. Weighing. "So what you're saying is you'd be totally dependent upon your weapon," he answered, with an exaggerated shrug. "I mean, I can understand that. Not everyone has the BALLS to fight with a boomerang." He spoke as though he did just this every day -- and as though his expertise actually lay in hand to hand combat rather than World of Warcraft and Stratego. 

Zuko felt his brow twitch, but he turned it into a tight smirk. "I didn't use a sword -or- a boomerang to break that teacher's nose," he retorted dangerously. 

The reminder of Zuko's history of real violence efficiently put Sokka in his place and his smarminess dropped by a few points. 

"And anyway,” Zuko continued, “ the best sword fighters never gave their opponents any opportunity to disarm them, so the question of whether they'd be helpless without their swords is pointless!" He had to spare a moment to wonder if Sokka was always this argumentative. "But then I guess not everyone has the full-body skill it takes to wield one blade, let alone two simultaneously." He was only bragging a little. 

As they talked, they were completing a circle of the room, and although he glanced between the finely crafted weapons, most of Sokka's attention was on Zuko. "It's just a piece of metal," he said skeptically but not entirely disrespectfully. "How hard could it be?" 

This time, Zuko didn't bother hiding his grin, though the expression contained just enough threat to not be entirely comforting. "If you really want to know, I'll show you sometime." He paused, spared a glance for the case to their right before turning to catch Sokka's eyes again as he moved toward the door. "Unless you're too busy playing WoW." His words were teasing, but strangely, Sokka thought, devoid of genuine malice. 

"What!?" Sokka yelped indignantly but his cheeks flushed pink at the tease. "I-- I'm not-- wait, really?" He blinked, stopping for a moment. "Can you really sword fight?" he asked, surprise written all over his face. 

"Since I was seven," Zuko answered with a nod. Then as though to soften his boast, added, "I'm not a master or anything, but, you know..." he shrugged. "Good enough to prove to a skeptic that it's a worthy art.” 

Sokka was quiet for a moment, eyeing him askance. But then he caught Zuko's sleeve briefly, giving a tug. "C'mere." He knew the museum like the back of his hand, and it was easy enough to lead Zuko through two hallways to a room filled with armor and weapons, mixed in with art and garb from all across Asia-- from Japan to China and Korea. "I assume these are the kind of swords you're talking about right? Not like, broadswords or something." Then a suspicious look. "You're not one of those SCA fags, right?" 

Zuko gave him a look, one Sokka understood to be a breath away from an eye roll, but marginally more respectful. "I don't hit people with styrofoam bats, no," he answered, as much to defend his skill as to put Sokka at ease. Then he stepped away, eyes scanning the racks of weaponry and art, costume and cultural knick knacks. "Here," he said finally, pausing in his step, and lifting his chin to nod at the case before him. "Like these. Of course, I practice with dulled blades, thin steel that bends and retains its shape. These ones here are real. Sharp." He pointed to a set of twin blades, each hilted with a half circle, displayed above a single sheath, lacquered in black and gold. "The weapons of a warrior." 

The darker skinned boy stood beside him, his features set severely as he looked over the blades, then glanced at Zuko, then back to the blades. "Isn't two kind of like.... over-compensating?" he finally asked with one sly brow lifted. 

Zuko's glare was withering, but seemed, frustratingly, to have little effect on the other. "It's called Shuang Dao. It's a style." Then, "But if you don't feel safe with only two, I'm sure we can find you a third. You can hold it in your mouth." Zuko was definitely teasing him now. 

Sokka stroked his chin thoughtfully. "I'm not sure if that would be awesome or retarded," he stated seriously. When he caught Zuko staring at him, he shook himself into normalcy, starting to wander through the exhibit. "Let's just say -- theoretically -- that I were to... LET you teach me this style thingie of yours. What's the catch? What do I owe you?" 

Zuko shrugged. He hadn't honestly even thought that far. It'd been mostly, he had to admit, simple boasting. "I dunno. I'm sure I'd think of something. Let's just say you'd owe me... a favor." When Sokka stared at him with evident skepticism, Zuko sighed. "I'm not gonna make you join a gang or something. Relax." 

"Pffft, like you're in a gang," Sokka scoffed. But he was thoughtful. 

"Attention guests." 

Sokka was startled by the polite voice over the gravelly PA. "The museum will be closing in fifteen minutes. Thank you for spending your day with us. Again, the museum will be closing in fifteen minutes." 

Sokka slapped himself in the forehead. "We didn't take a single photo!" 

Zuko, too, seemed startled. Had that much time really passed so quickly? "Well, we've got until Monday, right? We'll just have to come back." He frowned slightly, glanced at his watch again. 

"Is Saturday okay?" Sokka asked hesitantly. "I've got stuff in the afternoon for the rest of the week..." He watched Zuko carefully for his reaction, as though waiting for anger or violence. 

But, "Saturday's fine," was all Zuko said as they began to move toward the exit doors. It was probably safer if he didn't see the other boy two days in a row anyway. He didn't trust the information not to somehow reach his father -- the excuse of school work or not. "What do you do after school anyway?" 

"Soccer a few times a week," Sokka answered, paused, then continued quickly, "And other stuff sometimes -- oh man, check this out, this is awesome!" He darted to a set of fossils that were on the walls of the hallways-- small, strange prehistoric animals forever preserved. Even as the PA announced that the museum would be closing in five minutes, on their way to the front, Sokka was distracted several times by skeletons and crystals and other paraphernalia. 

Zuko followed Sokka's stuttering path with thinly veiled amusement, casually sharing in his interest occasionally, and even pointing out one or two things on their way. By the time they reached the front, the desk attendant was sending sharp looks their way, impatient with the two boys who seemed to be taking their time while she waited to close up. 

"Just a sec," Zuko moved toward the front desk to grab a couple of pamphlets, proof of the afternoon's activity just in case his father should question his whereabouts and motives. 

"Thank you, ma'am!" Sokka chirped under the woman's scrutiny. Clearly they were the last patrons to leave the museum, as the door closed behind them and they heard the lock click into place. 

It was still raining when they left the museum, and Zuko opened his umbrella as he began walking down the steps to the sidewalk. When he didn't hear Sokka's footsteps immediately behind his, he paused and turned, cocking his head to the side. "Coming?" he asked. 

Sokka groaned audibly, pressing a palm over his eyes and still standing under the awning of the museum. "I'm so stupid..." He glanced back at the now locked and abandoned door pitifully -- only then did Zuko realize Sokka's hands were empty. "I must have set down my umbrella without noticing..." He sighed and pulled the collar of his jacket over his head before jaunting down the steps into the heavy rain. "Oh well. Let's go." 

Zuko blinked and followed Sokka to the bus stop, where they stood awkwardly for a little less than a minute before Zuko sighed quietly and pulled up his hood, at the same time handing Sokka his umbrella. "You look ridiculous," he offered by way of explanation, just in case the gesture seemed too nice. Or too weird. 

The younger of the pair stared at Zuko for just a moment, both embarrassed and surprised. "Th-thanks," he mumbled, letting his jacket fall back into place and rubbing the back of his neck. An awkward silence fell in which Sokka debated what to do -- should he insist that they share the umbrella? He imagined that would just irritate Zuko and he might take the umbrella back. Or worse, sock him for getting too close. 

Luckily the bus only took a few minutes to get there; before Sokka could make a decision, he was shaking the umbrella closed as they climbed aboard. He handed it back to Zuko with another murmured thanks as they sat down. 

"So uh..." Sokka began as the bus lurched. Darkness was seeping across the gray sky and by now the bus was almost completely empty. "Did you get in trouble for coming over the other day?" It might have been overstepping the boundaries still being laid out, but it had happened at his house after all, so he figured he had the right to know. Maybe. 

Zuko stole a brief glance before answering. "Not really," he shook his head, thoughtful. It wasn't a lie. His father hadn't punished him or even gotten truly angry. As for the strange and dangerous trap of his newly offered freedom... well, there wasn't really any good way to explain it to someone who didn't know Ozai, who didn't know their family. "Your grandmother's salmon was really good," he added. "Would you thank her for me?” 

"Oh-- sure," Sokka said with surprise, but he couldn't help the little grin that appeared at Zuko's words. "She liked you," he added, trying not to sound too nice and more like he didn't really care. "So you know, you're welcome or whatever. If you want to try it again." Why, when he was trying to sound cool, did the words come out sounding so stupid? At least his face didn't completely betray him, managing an uninterested nonchalance. 

Zuko nodded quietly, knowing he couldn't take Sokka up on his offer, not with his choices under such close scrutiny from his father. Still, "Thanks," he answered. Then, "Really? She liked me? How can you tell?" As far as Zuko had been able to tell, the old woman had regarded him with something like thinly veiled suspicion. 

"She said so," Sokka said. "Well, Katara was kind of complaining and Grangran basically shut her up and said that she liked you." What Grangran had actually said was he was obviously a nice enough boy who put up a tough front, and she'd used the words 'incredibly transparent'. 

Sokka didn't figure Zuko needed to know the exact details. 

Zuko chuckled faintly. "Your sister doesn't like me," he said, not seeming to be at all bothered by this fact. It was almost, he thought, worth risking his father's ire to see the look of outrage on the girl's face should he show up on their doorstep again. 

"She'll get over it," Sokka assured him with a shrug. "She's mostly just stubborn. And she doesn't want to be proven wrong." Apparently, Sokka realized after a moment, he was on Aang's side. He didn't remember making a conscious decision to accept this guy. It just had happened. 

"Understandable." Zuko tapped his umbrella against the floor of the bus, adding to the puddle of rainwater already gathered between his feet. They two boys lapsed into awkward silence then; Zuko kept glancing out the window, and Sokka fidgeted in his seat. 

Finally, Zuko recognized the street they bus turned onto and reached over Sokka to pull the cord signaling the driver. "My stop," he explained, unnecessarily. It wasn't really anywhere near his house, but it was the closest the bus would come and he could call Ji from there. 

"I'll call you before Saturday," Sokka said as the bus squeaked to a stop. "See ya..." 

Zuko stood, hesitated, then handed the umbrella back to Sokka. "Just give it to me later," he said, then pulled up his hood as he hurried to exit the open bus doors, leaving Sokka no opportunity for protest. 

Sokka blinked down at the umbrella, then up when the doors shut and the bus lurched into movement again. Not surprisingly, Zuko didn't look back at him. Sokka wondered if his sister would be able to find some malicious excuse for this sort of kindness. 

When Ji picked up the young master from an unfamiliar street corner, he didn't comment on Zuko's soaked shoulders or damp bangs, but the missing umbrella did not go unnoticed and, indeed, a mental note was made for future mention to his employer.


	6. Chapter 6

Between morning classes, Zuko's phone buzzed with a text message from Sokka.   
  
 _If you wanna have lunch with us, we'll be in Mr. Zei's classroom.  
_  
Half a minute later another message chirped:  _Sokka gav me ur #. Come eat w/ us! Aang :D_  
  
Zuko sent no answer, uncertain whether he would have enough schoolwork to justify spending his lunch in the library. Fortunately --or perhaps unfortunately?-- his chem teacher was in a caring mood and assigned them two days to finish the homework she would normally expect back in one day.   
  
 _Just long enough to get my umbrella back,_  Zuko told himself, his footsteps already carrying him toward the familiar classroom.   
  
He hesitated with his hand on the door; he could hear sounds from within. Finally, Zuko decided it was stranger to stand motionless in the hallway than to simply enter the room.   
  
"SO THEN I KICKED HIM IN THE NUTS. That'll teach the little shit to try to steal from a blind girl!"   
  
The dark haired girl, sitting on a desk with her back to the door, was awarded with uproarious laughter, though Katara managed to make herself heard above the din, "Toph, language!"   
  
Aang was the first to notice their visitor lingering in the doorway and he bolted to his feet. "You came!" he all but squealed.   
  
Zuko managed a twitch of lips that might have been trying to be a smile, but mostly looked like a grimace. "Hi," he mumbled, lifted a hand in greeting, glanced around the room, eyes pausing just a little warily on the small girl who'd been bragging of such violent actions a moment ago.   
  
Aang didn't seem to notice his discomfort or hesitation, instead bounding forward to take Zuko by the elbow and drag him into the room. "Zuko, this is Toph and you already know Sokka, of course and you met Katara before too!"   
  
Sokka gave him a little grin and a nod, but his sister looked uncomfortable, steadfastly looking everywhere but at the newcomer.   
  
The smaller girl however showed no hesitation and she turned toward Zuko though her grayed eyes did not focus on him.   
  
"Ohoho," she said with a wide, sly smile. "Finally, the hardcore gangster train robbing criminal everyone has been talking about. You don't look so tough to me."   
  
"Um," Zuko began, brow raised skeptically, not quite sure how to respond to this determined --and completely impossible-- statement. Aang, meanwhile, giggled and rolled his eyes, poking Toph playfully in the shoulder.   
  
"That's just cuz you can't see his scar," Aang whispered. Loudly. "I think it makes him look really tough."   
  
"Hmm, I've heard about this." Toph's head cocked at the sound of Zuko's voice, catching exactly his location. And then she hopped off the desk, walked right up to him with an unsettling sort of confidence, and grabbed the front of his shirt. A yank brought Zuko closer to her level and a small, splayed hand fell over the side of Zuko's face, her fingers abruptly feeling out the rough, dark skin. Then just as abruptly, she released him and stepped back with arms folded over her chest. "Huh. I guess that is pretty bad ass."   
  
Everyone else in the room GOGGLED.   
  
Zuko just blinked, face faintly flushed, then straightened and took a step back. "Um, thanks?" he managed, staring suspiciously at the strange girl who seemed to feel neither fear nor concern of any sort.   
  
A moment later Aang broke into laughter. Clutching his sides, he nearly fell out of his chair. When he seemed to have found his voice again, the younger boy waved his hand in front of Sokka, palm up. "You owe me a dollar."   
  
"Yeah, yeah," Sokka grumbled, digging in his pocket to shove a bill into Aang's hand.   
  
Katara stared at her brother with a measure of horror and he just shrugged at her and shoved half his sandwich in his mouth. He stretched then to haul an empty chair over beside his, catching Zuko's eye with a nod of his head, but unable to say much.   
  
"Your teacher lets us eat in here with Sokka when it rains," Aang explained, climbing back onto the desk with Toph who seemed satisfied. There was a certain sense that she'd put Zuko immediately in his place with her.   
  
"Because he's such a good student," Katara saw fit to add and the accusation in her tone wasn't particularly hidden.   
  
Zuko nodded, distractedly, and took the offered seat, casting a brief glance toward Aang and the blind girl before digging into his bag to pull out first his own lunch --a simple black lacquered box-- and then a familiar piece of tupperware, clean and empty which he handed to Sokka. "Your grandmother's," he explained before turning quietly to his lunch, mostly ignoring the multiple pairs of eyes still trained in his direction.   
  
"Ah, thanks," Sokka said offhandedly, having swallowed. He tucked the box into his own bag. Katara was glaring at him, and he found that he kind of liked pushing her buttons like this. "Oh yeah--" The umbrella was tucked under his chair and he gave that back to Zuko as well. "Thanks for letting me borrow that. It was POURING when I got off the bus."   
  
"Snoozles said you guys went to the museum together," Toph mentioned. "He practically lives there. When he's not playing World of Warcraft or table top gaming."   
  
"GAAAH TOPH SHUT UP!" Sokka buried his face in his hands. All that work to keep up his image and Toph brought it crashing down in seconds!   
  
But Zuko only smirked faintly. After all, Aang had already mentioned Sokka's hobbies, so Toph's 'revelation' came as little surprise. "Yeah," he confirmed, lifting the lid from his lunch and picking up a pair of chopsticks to idly stir a meat and vegetable dish. "It's for a class project." Then, as though an afterthought, he added, "My uncle's really into table-top. He's got his own group and everything. The White Lotus. They play Pai Sho Warriors."   
  
Sokka lifted his head a little to STARE at the other boy. Years of being teased by his friends and family for his hobbies -- by people who were otherwise affectionate but just couldn't abide by his interests. And this guy shows up and is supposed to be a terrifying, nasty bully... -- and he says this? There are moments in everyone's life when everything is put into the clearest perspective. It was one of those moments for Sokka.   
  
"Uh... Sokka?" Katara was poking him in the head with the blunt end of her fork.   
  
"I think he's gonna cry," Toph whispered to the the other girl and leaned in closer, as though some sniffle or near-inaudible pout would give the older boy away.   
  
Zuko just stared back, blinked, lifted a bite of meat and rice to his mouth as though he hadn't any idea of what was going on. And maybe he didn't, because he just shrugged and continued. "He tried to get me into it once, but all those rules and strategies... I couldn't keep them all straight. Too complex."   
  
"P...Pai Sho is an incredibly complicated game," Sokka managed around a certain tightness in his throat. "There's like thirty books on it, depending on the style you play in."   
  
"Thirty books!" Aang suddenly exclaimed, wide eyed. "For a board game?!"   
  
"I'm pretty sure my uncle owns at least that many," Zuko nodded. "He even wrote one himself. Lemme think...  _Warriors of Pai Sho: White Lotus Strategies_ , I think it was." Zuko tapped his chopsticks against his lip, thoughtfully.   
  
Sokka gasped, startling everyone present. "Your uncle is the Dragon of the West?!"   
  
The older boy blinked, meeting Sokka's eyes momentarily before turning his gaze to the ceiling, thinking. "Hm. You know, I have heard that before. I think that's what his teammates call him. Is he that well known?" He wasn't really all that interested in Pai Sho himself, but there was something immensely satisfying about see the constantly changing expressions on Sokka's face as he talked about the subject.   
  
"He's LEGENDARY!" Sokka said, seeming to completely forget his original decision of hiding his Secret Life from Zuko. "His book is amazing!"   
  
"Oh my god, if only I was deaf instead of blind," Toph groaned.   
  
Katara was quietly and deliberately focusing all her attention on her own meal and Aang was looking between the two other boys, trying, it seemed, to follow the conversation. Katara looked up and shook her head. "Don't bother," she rolled her eyes. "Once you get him started it's impossible to stop him."   
  
"Wow," Aang stared. "I guess he really does like games."   
  
Meanwhile, Zuko was having difficulty with the concept of his uncle being famous in the world of table top gaming. "So, really? You've read his book? I'll have to tell him he's famous." Zuko chuckled quietly around a mouthful of zucchini.   
  
"You HAVE to introduce me sometime," Sokka plowed in deeper. "His book is incredible -- it's not just about gaming, it's about LIFE! You really aught to read it, even if you're not into the game."   
  
"Better be careful, Prettyboy," Toph said, addressing Zuko. "Or he's gonna suck you into his little world and the next thing you know you'll be talking about level 54 elves and have a girlfriend on the other side of the country that's actually a 300 pound old man."   
  
"Toph!" Sokka protested in a whine. "I told you she sends me pictures!"   
  
"I haven't seen those pictures," the younger girl sniffed.   
  
Zuko blinked curiously as the rest of the group pointedly ignored Sokka's gurgling and the thump of his head hitting the desk. "If you want to be sure, you could call her on the phone," he mused idly.   
  
Sokka sat up suddenly. "That's right! I HAVE talked to her on the phone! I have proof that she's a girl! HAH! In your face, Toph!"   
  
"It's amazing what computers can do these days..." Toph mused and Sokka growled angrily.   
  
"Give it up, Sokka," Katara warned.   
  
Luckily for all present, the chime of the lunch bell broke the tension and Toph slid from her seat, grabbing her lunch bag and sticking her tongue out in Katara's general direction.   
  
"Catch you later, losers!" she called cheerfully.   
  
"Bye," Zuko waved, remembered belatedly that the gesture was useless and lowered his hand.   
  
Aang dragged Katara from the room shortly after.   
  
When they were the last in the room, Zuko turned toward Sokka with a mischievous smirk. "I'm sure she's perfectly lovely."   
  
He didn't quite avoid the eraser aimed for his head.   
  
\-------   
  
It was clear from that point that Zuko had been inducted. Even Katara wasn't quite as cold to him the next day when Aang found Zuko at the beginning of the lunch hour and dragged him outside to a table where the others were waiting. Toph seemed to be hazing him, her teasing just as harsh as that which she offered Sokka, calling Zuko 'Prettyboy', 'Fancy Pants' and 'Richie Rich'.   
  
Katara left early with Toph to take her back to her wing of the school and a boy in a wheelchair from Aang's grade showed up for ask for his attention, leaving Zuko and Sokka alone at the table in the overcast courtyard.   
  
"I think Aang's in love with you," Sokka said, teasing, as he stuffed his trash into the paper sack of his lunch. "He wouldn't shut up about you yesterday. He was so happy that you came to lunch with us."   
  
Zuko chuckled faintly, poking through the last bits of his lunch, idly before closing it back up and tucking it away in his bag. Then he turned, leaned back against the table, resting on his elbows. "Doesn't seem to take a lot to make him happy," he noted. "He's a pretty upbeat kid."   
  
"True enough," Sokka replied. "But still, he likes you a lot." A pause. "But I mean, so do--"   
  
"Well well well," came an all too familiar voice from behind Zuko's back. He felt Sokka stiffen beside him. "Look who's got a new boyfriend. What a perfectly ugly couple."   
  
Jet had one foot on the opposite bench, looming over them with a sour sort of smirk. Between his lips was a piece of grass, replacing the other sort of weed that was customarily located there outside of school hours.   
  
Zuko felt a cold tension pour down his spine. He wouldn't turn around, but his hands fisted hard, nails digging into his palms. He opened his mouth, sucked in a sharp breath, started to speak before Sokka interrupted.   
  
"Back off, Jet," Sokka snapped with a hardness in his voice that Zuko had yet to hear from the younger boy. "What do you want?"   
  
"I don't want anything," Jet smarmed back at him. "I just had to stop by at the sight of this ex-con hanging out with the nerd squad. It's just adorable how your little gang has taken him in."   
  
"Jet," Zuko warned, voice low, and he turned his face just enough to glance over his shoulders, catching the other boy from the corner of his eye. "Don't." He wondered that Sokka seemed to know Jet, though if two months had been enough time for Zuko to solidify his reputation as a delinquent, he could only imagine the niche Jet had already carved for himself.   
  
"What?" Jet asked innocently, catching Zuko's eye sharply, taking all he could. "I'm just having a little conversation with Sokka here. I think it's great that you've finally found someone that really LIKES you, Zuko. But then again, this family really seems to have a thing for delinquents, huh, Sokka?"   
  
The angry snarl that broke from Sokka's throat surprised even him, but it didn't impair the anger that flashed in his blue eyes as he surged to his feet. A fist was raised with clear intent to clock Jet across the face, but the taller boy had everything to his advantage and it was incredibly easy for him to catch the fist in one hand and twist Sokka's arm painfully behind his back. He shoved Sokka down to the pavement, an eyebrow raised as he loomed over him.   
  
"Do you seriously want to do this?" he asked incredulously. "It really must be true love."   
  
But even as he pressed Sokka's cheek into the concrete, daring his to answer, Jet felt a hand close around the back of his neck, fingers threatening dangerously at the bob of his throat. His movement had been quick and silent, giving Jet no warning. "Are you sure -you- want to do this?" he echoed, eyes hard, no sign that he was affected by Jet's childishly taunting words. "You know I'll beat you," he added, just a little quieter, the reminder meant for Jet alone.   
  
Jet hesitated and it gave Sokka a moment to scramble out from under his shoe. After a moment of silent, slow breathing, Jet scoffed and shook off Zuko's hold. "Whatever. See you losers later." With that, he stalked away with only a last dark glance at Zuko.   
  
Zuko breathed in relief, sat back down heavily. He was quiet for a long moment, trying to calm his thudding pulse and coax the air back to his lungs. It could have gone so much worse, he told himself. At least Jet had, mostly, kept his mouth shut. "Sorry about that," he said finally, casting a brief glance at the other still standing a handful of feet away.   
  
Sokka, for his part, still trembed a little with anger, fists clenched as though he wanted to chase after Jet for a second round. "What?" he finally said sharply. Then he sighed and sank down beside Zuko. "That guy's such an asshole." A pause and a quirk of brow. "How do you know him, anyway?"   
  
Zuko hesitated and forced himself to unclench his fists. There was no question as to whether he could tell Sokka the truth, so all he could say was, "We went to school together. At Arbor High. He transferred here about a week after I did." Then, before Sokka could ask for details, Zuko offered the same question. "How do -you- know him?"   
  
"Katara," Sokka growled, his brow setting. "She had a crush on him and he found out about it. He took advantage of it and led her on. Katara's on the student council and she has  _keys_  to certain things. He's scum."   
  
Nothing Sokka said particularly surprised Zuko, even that his sister had been taken in by the guy. Jet was nothing if not charismatic when he wanted to be. Back at Arbor, he'd had a whole posse of kids who hung on his every word. Zuko nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, that sounds like Jet." A pause and he let a hand run through his hair, sighing. "Don't let him get to you, though. He's all talk. He likes to think he's intimidating."   
  
"I'm not scared of him," Sokka said, bristling a little. "I just wish I could give him a good ass-kicking, just once. I'll never forgive him for what he did to my sister. And he's just racking up the points by being a jerk to you, too."   
  
The bell rang then and Sokka sighed. He really didn't feel like going back to class.   
  
"Mm," Zuko said, nodding faintly, lost in thought. He made no move to stand, or head toward their classroom. He could only hope that Jet wouldn't become an even bigger problem than he already was.   
  
\------   
  
The rest of the day passed relatively uneventful, and Zuko, his mood turned brooding by Jet's appearance at lunch, called Ji immediately after the last bell.   
  
A familiar car parked outside the door of the Hakan estate told Zuko that his uncle was visiting, news which managed to cheer him enough to mostly dissipate the cloud over his head.   
  
"I'm home," he said, out of habit, though there was no one in the front to greet him. He ducked into the kitchen first, thinking perhaps that Iroh might be there. His search proved fruitless though, and Zuko instead turned his steps back toward the entryway.   
  
"Nephew!" Iroh's booming voice startled him as he rounded a corner to find his uncle pulling on a jacket on the foyer. "I didn't realize that you were home! I was just attending to those orchids that I gave your father -- I knew he wouldn't take care of them." The old man shook his head sadly.   
  
"Are you leaving so soon?" Zuko inquired, hoping the disappointment in his voice wasn't too obvious.   
  
"I was just going to get some early dinner," Iroh responded leisurely with a grin for his nephew. "Your father and sister aren't home yet. Would you like to join me?"   
  
Zuko could not imagine his father being angry with him for respecting his uncle's offer, so he nodded, returning the smile only a little awkwardly. "Yes, please," he answered, leaving his school bag behind, and pushing through the door once more, holding it open politely. "Where are we going?"   
  
"Hmmm, I feel like sushi, what do you think?" Iroh said thoughtfully as they got into his car. "I know just the place -- nice and hidden and small. And I get discounts from the beautiful flower that owns it!" He laughed, pulling on to the main road that would take them out of the sheltered community on the hill and down to the urban streets.   
  
Zuko shook his head faintly, continuously surprised at the reach of his uncle's influence that had nothing to do with position or power and everything to do with charm and flirting. "Sushi is good, Uncle," he confirmed.   
  
The drive was not a long one, though it did take them outside of the economic sphere that Zuko's father rarely willingly crossed. The restaurant itself was nestled in the Asian district of town and the building had a tiny parking lot with a space left that Iroh could just squeeze his car into. At the top of some stairs above another building was hidden a small but nicely furnished shop with a staple fish tank full of brightly colored animals.   
  
The owner, an older woman (though younger than Iroh himself) greeted them and fawned briefly over both of them, remarking that Zuko would clearly grow up to be as handsome as his uncle. She seated them and brought them what she said was their best tea before finally leaving them with menus.   
  
"I've known Hanako for many years," Iroh explained as he settled in with a smile and turned his attention to the menu.   
  
"You know many women, Uncle," Zuko teased lightly, hiding a grin behind his teacup. Then, before Iroh could raise a good-natured protest, he continued. "But as it turns out, one of your biggest fans is, in fact, a 16 year old boy."   
  
Iroh lifted one grayed brow, his heavy hands folding around the warmth of his cup. Then he smiled and closed his eyes. "Oh Nephew, you don't have to flatter your old uncle like that -- wait! You're seventeen, aren't you?"   
  
Zuko blinked, then laughed. "I don't mean me," he corrected, blushing just a little. "One of my classmates, as it turns out, is a Pai Sho Warriors fan. And he has your book."   
  
The older man blinked at him, surprise apparent across his features. "A high school boy playing Pai Sho?" he repeated. "How interesting! The youngest players I've met were at least college age. That is very flattering that he has my book, though." A warm smile crossed Iroh's face but then his brows were lifting again, quizzically. "And who is this young man, nephew? It seems like this school is much better than your last one..."   
  
Zuko's awkwardness kicked in and he hemmed, rubbing at the back of his head. "Just a guy from my history class. We got stuck on a project together. He really likes games, I guess. Sokka," he finished, lamely. Then, quieter, "You won't tell Father, right?"   
  
"You know anything that you tell me is in the strictest confidence, Zuko." Iroh reached across the table to pat his wrist gently. "But I can't imagine that my brother would be opposed to you gaining healthy friendships in your new school...?"   
  
"Sokka lives in South County. His sister and friends too," Zuko explained, knowing Iroh would understand. He paused long enough to give the waitress their order and continued. "Father found out that I was invited over for dinner last week..."   
  
"I see," Iroh said, his mouth tugging at the corners with the distaste that Zuko knew his uncle had for some of Ozai's values. "I suppose your father forbade you from seeing them again."   
  
Zuko frowned miserably. "No, even worse. He told me I was old enough to make my own decisions as to how I spend my afternoons and that Ji would be on call whenever I needed the car." Clearly, from Zuko's tone of voice, this wasn't as good a thing as it sounded like on the surface.   
  
Iroh's mouth hardened into a thin line. He knew his brother all too well and the younger sibling's actions were so very transparent. "Did you enjoy he time that you've spent with this Sokka and the others?" he asked curiously, his very best poker face implemented.   
  
"I-- I suppose so," Zuko blinked, surprised to realize he hadn't really thought on it. He'd just sort of fallen in with them. Better, he decided, than his sister's friends or Jet. Aang and Sokka didn't seem to expect anything from him, except maybe a sort of mystery and the knowledge to look after himself in a setting full of rumor and gossip. "I-- really only just met them.   
  
Iroh breathed a deep, slow breath, nodding. "Often you can tell from even the tiniest bud something that will blossom into the most radiant flower, Nephew," he said in that way of his. Then abruptly, he continued, "I'd like to build a patio in my garden. Would you be willing to help me with that? Perhaps you know some strong young men -- or girls, really, whichever -- who might be interested in making some extra money a few afternoons a week."   
  
The smile that ghosted across Zuko's face came with a shyness that seemed out of place on his scarred visage, yet still, he suspected, would be appreciated by the older man. Zuko nodded. "I'll ask them." Then, "Sokka already wanted to meet you. He'll probably want your autograph or something."   
  
Iroh was laughing as their food was set in front of them. "Then I think I will like him very much!" he said cheerfully as he picked up his chopsticks. He was quick to bring a first roll to his mouth and swallowed before he spoke again, his voice dropping to a conspiratory whisper. "You don't always have to come over you know, Zuko -- but I'm sure your father will be quite pleased to learn that you're studying and working at my house several days a week." He winked.   
  
With food before him and his uncle's more-than-kind offer, Zuko felt finally able to relax. "Maybe," he considered, "I'll try to learn Pai Sho again."   
  
Iroh suddenly appeared to be choked up, lifting a fist to his lips briefly. "Oh, my nephew... I've been waiting for the day that you would say this!"   
  
Zuko gave a short, vaguely embarrassed laugh and shrugged. "I can't make any promises about my skill or patience, but... well, I'm sure Sokka will offer you a better challenge."   
  
A pleased chuckle answered him as Iroh smiled quietly, adding more wasabi to his soy sauce. "I look forward to meeting your new friends, Nephew."


	7. Chapter 7

Saturday was cool and gray, but thankfully not rainy, meaning there would be no damp repeats of their first trip. The two boys had planned to meet at the museum and surprisingly, Sokka was able to make it on time which wasn't exactly his strong suit.

"Hey," he said, offering a grin as he jogged up to where Zuko was waiting on a bench outside the museum. "So are we actually going to do the project today?"

Zuko chuckled lightly and stood to meet the other boy. “I even brought an extra camera, just in case,” he confirmed, holding up the tiny digital camera he'd borrowed from Iroh before gesturing to the large brick behind behind them. “Shall we?”

"Oh, nice!" Sokka said enthusiastically. "With that we can take as many photos as we want and pick out the best ones." Sokka's list was a little beat up after a week of being toted around school but it was still legible and directed them back to the first room of the museum where ancient tools were waiting to be photographed. With Sokka's list and the added luxury of Zuko's camera, it was very simple to make their way through the vocabulary, snapping pictures and checking off words.

"So..." Sokka said in a lull as they moved to a new room. "Are we gonna have to wait for another group project before we're able to see you outside of school again?" His effort to sound casual was painfully transparent.

Zuko's surprise was clearly evident for about half a second. Then he schooled his expression into something just as obviously casual as Sokka's and spoke. "Actually, I meant to ask you... my uncle needs some help with a patio he wants to build. He thought maybe we -- I mean you -- and Aang and whoever else, might be interested in going over after school next week?"

"Your uncle?" Sokka repeated,  surprised and delighted. "At his HOUSE? Oh man. Yeah! Totally! I love building stuff!" He wasn't GREAT at it, he added in his own mind, but he did *enjoy* it. "I know Aang would love to help." Maybe he wouldn't mention it to Katara. There wasn't really any need to.

Zuko nodded, relieved for some reason he couldn't quite place. "Great, I'll let him know, then. Oh!" He turned to cross Sokka's path, stopping in front of a giant casting of a Mayan column. "Example of non-Roman based language," he pointed out, lifting the camera to take a shot of the stone-etched symbols.

"Ah, good catch," Sokka marked it off on his sheet. He hesitated briefly as they moved on and then spoke up again, "So, are you and your uncle very close?" he asked curiously, wondering in the back of his mind if Zuko would be irritated at him for asking personal questions.

But Zuko only shrugged, his eyes sweeping the displays and glass cases as they passed, on the look out for more points on their list. "I guess so," he answered vaguely. "We don't have a lot in common really, but he's pretty easy to talk to."

Sokka nodded slowly. "I guess that's how family is. Like how half the time Katara and I want to pummel each other but we still love each other." He paused, glancing at his list as they approached a display of Native American wax figures. "Autochthony," he pointed out.

Zuko snapped the appropriate picture and nodded as they continued on. He couldn't really empathize with the sisterly affection Sokka seemed to harbor; most of the time he spent thinking about his own sister involved hoping she'd tumble headlong into a very deep ditch. "So you live with your Grandmother?"

"Yeah," Sokka replied with a nod. "I mean -- our dad lives there too, technically, but he's only home like two months out of the year total. He does deep sea fishing in Alaska so he's on the boat most of the time. What about you? You live with your dad, not your uncle, right?"

"Mm," Zuko nodded. "My father and sister. Uncle visits pretty often though." He paused, looked around as they exited one room and stepped into another. "Where to next?"

"There's an early America section that will have good reference for industrialization," Sokka replied, leading the way. He let a long moment of silence pass before curiosity got the better of him. "So, divorce or what?"

Zuko followed, hesitating to answer Sokka's question for a long moment. Finally, though, he shrugged, not really seeing any reason to lie. "My mother died. When I was ten. Car accident."

"Oh..." Sokka's steps slowed for a moment but then he quickly regained his pace. "I'm sorry." A pause. "Me too. I was seven. I mean, not a car accident but... yeah. Anyway--" He fell awkwardly silent, finding his heart thumping faintly in his chest . He wondered if this was how other people felt when the  topic of his own mother came up and he wasn't sure why a strange laugh almost came to his throat.

Zuko stole a glance at Sokka's profile from the corner of his eye, a little surprised to find they had such a thing in common. "It's okay," he said, shrugging. "I mean, I don't think about it much." It wasn't quite the truth, but he wasn't sure what else to say. "I mean, sorry... about your mom, too."

"Right -- I mean -- me neither?" he tried. And then he *did* laugh that strange laugh, scratching at the side of his head. "Isn't that weird? I mean -- why do we apologize for somebody dying? Especially years and years ago. But it's so standard and expected that even I said it. But it's not like anyone who would ever say that had anything to do with the death itself. It just seems silly."

"Yeah," Zuko agreed, "I guess you're right. It -is- weird." Even as a child, he remembered people at the funeral, a whole stream of them, one after the other coming up to him and his sister, his father, a hand on his shoulder or bending down in front of him. And everyone said the same thing:  _I am -so- sorry_. He remembered wondering at the time, how every one of these people could have had any reason to be sorry about his mother's death. As though they all knew something that he didn't, that no one would tell him. He wanted to ask Sokka if he remembered the same things, but it didn't seem... appropriate and so he bit his tongue.

"Anyway..." Sokka said again, feeling strangely embarrassed. "I uh -- hey, where are we gonna go after this? I mean, we gotta go through the photos. I have a printer at home but..." There was an unspoken acknowledgment of what had happened the last time Zuko had come over to his house.

Zuko considered this. There was no way he could bring Sokka home; even if his father didn't see the boy, Ji would be sure to pass on the information. "I... I guess I could call Uncle and see if he'd let us use his computer...?"

"Is it okay?" Sokka asked hesitantly. "I mean, we could go to the library to do it but it's gonna be a pain. Do you think he'd mind?" It was such a strange circumstance and Sokka wasn't quite sure how to address it. It wasn't like he knew the other boy well enough to ask him about his apparently overbearing father.

"Uncle wouldn't mind," Zuko was sure. He trusted Iroh not to let it slip that he'd brought his classmate over. And it was infinitely safer at his uncle's than anywhere near his own home. Or, likely, Sokka's. He didn't quite trust that Ozai hadn't set a man or two to watch the other boy's house in case Zuko chose to spend his afternoons fraternizing with 'unsavory' individuals. "He'll be glad to meet you."

As it turned out, Iroh was out of town for the weekend but he knew the situation and instructed Zuko on where a spare key was hidden. It wasn't difficult at all to pick through the photos and print out a set to match their vocabulary. They each then chose a photo to write their individual short papers on -- and the group work was done.

It was still only mid-afternoon when Sokka started packing up his things. Were it anyone else, he would have suggested that Zuko come over for dinner or they go out and do something -- how was it that the simple assignment had gone so well? When they'd been stuck together, he'd expected them to be at each others throats the whole time. But now...

"Uh -- hey -- I know things are weird," Sokka started suddenly. "With like, your family or whatever. I don't know *why* but... well, anyway, do you want to do something? We could go to the arcade or get pizza..." It just seemed like all Zuko did was school and once in a while they'd seen him at the arcade, alone. But even then, not often. Immediately Sokka noticed the other boy's hesitation. "Or -- we could just you know, hang out here! It sounds like your uncle wouldn't mind... I mean, if you're not just sick of me." He offered his most charming smile.

"No, I don't think he'd mind," Zuko agreed, his hesitation easing somewhat. Even with his uncle gone, the older man's house felt like the safest place for them to be, away from the prying eyes of his father's employees and Azula's acerbic attitude. He paused, then glanced around the sitting room, his eyes settling on the modest TV and his uncle's rather sizable collection of videos. "We could..." he gestured. "Watch a movie or something?" He walked over to the shelf and scanned the titles. "Um... do you like Bruce Lee?" There didn't seem to be many other choices. Aside from a disturbing number of what appeared to be sappy chick flicks.

"Sure!" Sokka responded enthusiastically, digging for his phone. "And pizza?" he asked equally hopefully, flopping onto the couch. "You like meat, right?"

Zuko nodded, shuffling through the films until he'd pulled out one he hadn't seen before, but looked worth the risk. It had taken some convincing to bring Iroh into the current century in regards to his movie collection, but once Zuko had convinced him to leave  VHS behind and embrace DVD, the older man seemed to have little control over his buying habits. Since then, Iroh had developed an almost obsessive determination to own any film with the word 'dragon' in the title or a martial artist on the cover. "Meat is good," Zuko said, as he fiddled with the player. "I like pretty much anything on pizza."

"Perfect," Sokka said deviously and within a few moments he was ordering a pizza that sounded more like animal than food. His idea of pizza included two orders of pepperoni and two more of sausage as well as 'what ever other meat you have'.

"God, your uncle has got the be the coolest old person alive," Sokka breathed as he sank into the comfort of the couch, flipping his phone closed as the movie started.

"Heh, yeah, I guess he's pretty cool," Zuko couldn't help but agree, and as they settled in to watch the film and wait for the food to arrive. When it did, Zuko hesitated, frankly a little intimidated by the pizza so stacked with sausage, pepperoni, bacon, ham and... was that ground beef? Even the cheese disappeared under the avalanche of meat. But after the first bite, he had to agree that Sokka knew how to order a good pizza, and every crumb was polished off between them by the time the first movie rolled its credits.

"Check it out," Sokka was saying, perusing through Zuko's uncle's collection. He plucked one video out. "This is the sequel! We have to watch this one too -- the Chinese guys fight Irish mafia dudes in it! It's ALMOST as good as wrestling."

Zuko waved him toward the DVD player with a nod. "Stick it in," he agreed. "But this is -way- better than wrestling."

"Pffft, whatever," Sokka said with a wave of his hand. "I bet you've never even SEEN wrestling. We'll remedy that soon enough." There was something downright eerie about the way he said that.

A quarter of the way into their third film, Zuko was nodding off, finding it increasingly difficult to keep his eyes open despite the splitting heads and broken bones that flashed across the screen. A glance at his watch told him it was still more or less early, that he could relax for just a little longer...

Though he was pretty glued to the screen, adding his own commentary over the subtitles now and then, Sokka glanced over about halfway through the movie to realize that Zuko had fallen asleep. Sokka couldn't help but chuckle  the other boy didn't look nearly as fearsome with his lips pouting and hair falling across his face in slumber.

But Zuko probably thought the same thing when he woke several hours later to Sokka's quiet snoring in the gentle blue glow of the television's blank screen.

Zuko blinked slowly, glancing from Sokka's sleep-lax face to the blank screen and then back. It occurred to him that despite the glow of the tv, the room was kind of dark... Only then did he snap back into full consciousness, sitting up with a jerk, his heart immediately thundering in his chest. "Oh SHIT." He looked at the clock on the wall, almost expecting to be mistaken. 10:30. " _Fuck_."

Sokka snorted quietly and jerked a little before an eye opened sleepily. "Huh?" he mumbled, wiping at his mouth with the back of a hand. It took a moment for him to recognize the panic on Zuko's face. "What's wrong?" he then asked with alarm, sitting up quickly.

"He's gonna kill me," Zuko stared, blindly around the room as though looking for anything that might set back time. Finally, though, shaking himself, he pulled out his cellphone and sent a quick text to Ji, who he knew would still be on call. "Ji's gonna come get me, but he can't know you're here so I'm going to give you the key and turn off all the lights when I leave and you're gonna wait and then let yourself out. You can put the key in the mail slot in the front door after you lock it. Okay?"

"O-okay," Sokka said, blinking owlishly. It wasn't *that* late for a Saturday evening... maybe his grandmother was a little more lenient about curfew than he thought. Sokka stretched and stood to start gathering their garbage and straighten up -- he didn't wan to make a bad impression on the Dragon of the West by leaving a mess in his house. "Is...is it gonna be okay?" was all he could think to ask.

"...I'll think of something," Zuko answered hesitantly, then, "Don't worry," he added, unsure why he'd said it, except that the look Sokka was giving him made him feel uncomfortable. Maybe a little guilty. He hadn't meant to drag the other boy into this.

With Zuko's help, they cleaned up quickly, just finishing when a short honk outside signaled Ji's arrival. Zuko took a breath, grabbed his bag, and turned to Sokka. "Here," he mumbled, pressing the house key into Sokka's palm. "Thanks," he added quickly before flicking the lights off, leaving Sokka in the dark as he hurried to the front door.

Ji was waiting with the car door open for him and no remarks, though the arch of his eyebrow didn't go unnoticed.  It was 11:15 when he arrived home and Ji dropped him off at the front of the house silently before driving around the estate to park the car. The house was silent when Zuko slipped in, no one waiting for him, no one stopping him even as he silently crept up the stairs. Only after he quietly shut his door did he hear a sound -- another door closing down the hall.

Zuko's pulse raced and his head was pounding as he put away his school things, toed off his shoes, sat on the edge of his bed.  The recent memory of Jet's presence made his hands clench in the blankets and he stood again, quickly, to escape it. There were a thousand things he could say to his father and all of them would be wrong. It was only a matter of figuring out which would gain him a second chance.

It was 11:30 when the knock came at his door.

Zuko took only a moment to steady his breathing as well as he was able before his hand found the knob. He lowered his head and stepped back after he'd opened the door. He didn't look up.

Ozai had a way about him -- a style of parenting -- where he was always deadly calm. It sometimes could almost be mistaken for patience, that is, until he was pushed too far. It hadn't happened often, the crumbling of that perfectly calm, business-like veneer. But one of the times it had, Zuko had learned the most important lesson about not testing his father's limits.

Now, Ozai stepped into the room quietly and though his frown was a disapproving one, it spoke more of disappointment than anger. But since being expelled from the academy, Zuko didn't know which to dread more.

"I thought," Ozai began, "that I had been quite clear. I allowed you the freedom to utilize your time as you pleased. I put no restrictions on your activities and made Ji's services available for you at any time. But I don't recall removing your curfew. In fact, I believe I specifically stated that your curfew would still be in place."

Zuko hesitated only a moment before dropping to his knees, head still bowed, hands folded. It took him longer than he'd hoped to find his voice and even so his words came tentatively. "You did, Father," he confirmed, knowingbetter than to offer his excuses unless specifically asked the reason for his tardiness.

"I thought," Ozai continued as though he were musing. "That ten o'clock was a very generous curfew to give to a seventeen-year-old who had been expelled from not one, but two schools. Was I mistaken, Zuko? Am I being too strict on you?"

"No, Father," Zuko shook his head, shoulders tensing hard to keep Ozai from seeing the shudder that rippled across them. "You are more than fair with me. I-- was the one who failed you."

The question finally came. "Would you care to tell me what you were doing at Iroh's house? While he is out of town?"

"I-- Uncle gave me permission to study at his house," he paused, wondered if Ozai wanted more. "It's quieter than the library." He thought his father would probably understand the desire for study away from the presence of others. The school library, filled with whispering students, was hardly conducive to proper study.

"I see," came Ozai's unimpressed response. "Your new school must have just *fascinating* classes if your homework allowed you to lose track of time like that." A brief pause. "Ji is no longer on call for you, Zuko. If you're so independent that timeliness means nothing, then you're independent enough to get yourself home each day. Your curfew from now on will be 8:30 on weekends and 7:30 on weeknights. And the next time this happens, I will not be nearly as kind."

There was little point in arguing. Telling his father that he'd fallen asleep would garner no sympathy and no retraction of his decision. Ozai did not change his mind once he'd decided something. With his heartbeat hammering in his ears, it took a breath to realize his father had stopped speaking. "Y-yes," Zuko answered, hair in his eyes, chin touching his chest. "Please, forgive my disrespect." He didn't move from the spot on his floor. "Thank you, Father."

A touch startled Zuko and immediately set every nerve on end -- not a light touch but Ozai's wide palm, heavy on the back of his head. "You know that I derive no pleasure from punishing you, son." His voice was low, quiet. Perhaps the touch was supposed to be an imitation of comfort, of reassurance. But in truth it only felt threatening. "I only want to see you grow into a man that will make this family proud." With that, Ozai's hand slid away and Zuko's door clicked quietly shut behind him.

With the click of the latch, all the energy fled from Zuko's limbs, even sitting up was suddenly far more difficult than it would have been to simply curl up on the floor where he was and sleep. But Zuko managed to pull himself into bed, jeans and all, and lie there, waiting for his heart rate to return to normal. Despite the loss of his transportation, the whole thing could have gone much much worse and this, at least, Zuko was grateful for.

It was late, coming up on 1:30 AM, when Zuko's phone buzzed. He wasn't asleep -- couldn't sleep -- so it didn't wake him. It was a text from Sokka.

_Hey. Are you okay?_

Zuko stared at his phone for a long minute, then looked to his door as though Ozai or Azula might come bursting in at any moment. But the house was still and his Father was, most likely, asleep. So Zuko read the message again and replied.

_Fine. Lost car and new curfew is early but okay._

Then, a moment later, he added,  _You get home ok?_

 _Yeah no worries._  came Sokka's response. Then,  _Sorry you got in trouble. I had fun tonight though._

A few minutes later,  _Yeah, me too. Had fun... thanks._

Zuko closed his phone and turned over, pulling a blanket with him. Then, as an afterthought, he flipped open his phone and sent one more message.

_Goodnight_

_Night_


	8. Chapter 8

Monday afternoon, and Zuko was washing his hands, having stepped out of class to use the restroom. The bathroom was silent -- everyone was in class. The door squeaked open, and when Zuko looked up, there was a familiar smirk waiting for him in the mirror.

"Fancy meeting you here," Jet smarmed.

Zuko tensed immediately, avoiding Jet's eyes, and began to push past him, intent on the exit. "I have to get back to class."

But Jet caught his arm sharply. He shook his head. "Man, Zuko... we've really got to get you away from those boyscout wannabes. When have you ever been so eager to get back to class? I think we should do something fun instead." Then he was all but tackling Zuko, shoving him back until he knocked open the door of the nearest stall. Tanned fingers fumbled for the lock as he pressed Zuko up against the flimsy wall. "Remember the time I sucked you off in the bathroom at Arbor?" he whispered, free hand lifting so his thumb grazed the edge of Zuko's ragged scar. "You were so terrified of getting caught."

Zuko reached out, bracing himself against the wall and awkwardly maintaining the balance Jet seemed determined to take from him. "It was a stupid risk," he hissed back. "We almost  _did_  get caught." They'd had to pretend that Jet was looking after a sick Zuko when someone came into the restroom while they were both in the same stall. Zuko almost  _had_  thrown up after they'd gotten away with that little deception. Now he sighed. His nerves were on edge, had been since the night of his father's reprimand. He seemed to feel his father's eyes on him at all times, even when he knew they couldn't possibly be.

When Jet's hands began roaming, sliding around his hips to grab for the back of his jeans, Zuko shoved him back, glaring. "I don't have the time or the patience for this right now." He frowned. "I'm going to go."

"Gonna go meet up with your nerdy new boyfriend?" Jet grabbed for Zuko's wrist, giving a hard yank. "You're pathetic now," he growled, fingers suddenly tangling in the front of Zuko's shirt, anger flickering through his features. He slammed Zuko back against the wall, making the thin metal barrier shudder, a hand fisting in his hair as he crushed their mouths together with enough force to split Zuko's lip.

Zuko grunted a protest, hands fisting in Jet's ratty leather jacket. He held him just a breath away, so that Jet had to press and strain to reach his mouth again. He bit Zuko's lip until he groaned angrily, shoved Jet back. "He's not," Zuko growled. "We're friends. A concept that seems beyond you."

"Friends?" Jet hissed, his eyes suddenly livid. "You wanna talk to me about FRIENDS, you prick!? How about the friends who warned me to stay away from you back at Arbor? My friends tried to tell me that you were trouble. They were right, huh?" Hands left their grip on Zuko's wrists to scramble for the front of his pants, blindly fumbling for the fly.

"No one  _made_  you come here!" Zuko snapped back, slapping Jet's hands away. He slid along the side of the stall in the blind desire to put space between them until his shoulder hit the back wall, pinned between metal and concrete and Jet. "You didn't listen to your friends then. You didn't listen to me. You don't care about anyone but yourself. I wasn't trouble, Jet.  _We_  were trouble. The two of us."

"Yeah, we were," Jet snarled. "It was great! But you act like you don't remember -- what the hell changed?! It's like this school brain washed you!" There was pleading in Jet's voice -- and an unvoiced 'why?'. And always underlying was the anger and the determination not to give up -- not to have let himself do all this, become this for nothing.

"You're the one that changed!" Zuko shook his head, brows furrowed tight. "You were always so cool and self-assured and nothing ever got to you. People looked up to you! I--I wanted to  _be_  like you! But now... you're out of control! I can't-- I can't keep doing this! I'm trying to get my life back together, to prove to my father--"

"To prove to your father what!?" Jet raged, pouncing on the subject to take the focus off of himself. "To prove that you're some goody-good little nancy bitch!? So that you can spend the rest of your miserable fucking life scrabbling to live up to his fucked up expectations that no reasonable person would have?!" Jet's gaze tore into Zuko -- their paths may have parted but he knew Zuko. And he knew Ozai through a different shade of vision, from Zuko's words during a time where he had been jaded and reckless.

"No!" Zuko shouted back, the eyes that met Jet's hurt and defensive. "It's not like that! He cares about me! He just wants me to be stronger!"

"Yeah?" Jet was angry now but it was different -- it was the saner, warmer, protective side that Zuko had seen in the past. The Jet that passionately looked out for his friends. He jerked Zuko forward again with a fist in his shirt, though the sexually frustrated passion had drained from his touches. "Is that why he burned your fucking face?"

As Jet's anger cooled to something different, the energy fled Zuko's body and he slumped against the wall. "I-it was an accident," Zuko's voice wavered, years of recitation bringing the familiar words to his tongue. "I told you that."

"That's not what you said when you were drunk," Jet growled. "And now you're just gonna let him whittle you down until there's nothing left of  _you_."

"I can take care of myself," Zuko insisted, but he wouldn't look Jet in the eye now and he desperately wanted to pull his hood down over his face, to hide behind the dark fabric.

"Zuko..." Jet was reaching for him again but gently now, desperate forcefulness gone.

"Just-- don't," Zuko choked out when the brush of Jet's fingers felt it would burn his skin. "I have to go," he said again, shoving past Jet, and fumbling with the latch on the stall.

Finally he was out, and in his hurry to leave, Zuko hardly noticed the other figure who was entering, barely felt the bump of shoulders as he rushed past. He was already pulling his hood up as he hit the door and pushed it open.

"Zuko?" Sokka blinked but the other didn't seem to hear him and the door swung shut behind him. He frowned, turning back to his destination, startled to find Jet standing across the room from him. "What're you doing here?" he said incredulously, a strange feeling settling in his stomach.

Jet stood in the open stall, one hand grasping the top of the metal door, as though needing the support. His eyes narrowed as he met Sokka's and though it took a moment longer than usual, his trademark smirk eased back across his thin lips. "Not that it's any of your business, but I  _do_  occasionally take a piss like everyone else."

Sokka's brow furrowed, reproachful, calculating and he glanced over his shoulder as though considering going after Zuko. But then -- "That's not it," he said carefully; then with more gusto, "What did you do?"

Jet gave a short laugh, let his arm drop back to his side. "I don't think your boyfriend would like us talking about him behind his back." He shrugged in all false innocence, crossing toward the row of sinks.

Sokka scowled, moving closer to put one hand on another sink as Jet busied himself. "Shut up," he said irritably. "Why are you messing with him? Something special or just being an asshole like usual?"

"Why do you care?" Jet didn't look up as he washed his hands. He was even able to keep them from shaking under the cold water. "How long have you known him anyway? Two weeks? You don't know anything about Zuko." Only at the last words did he turn his head just enough to glance at the kid who stood there, bristling with righteous anger over something he knew nothing about. "Go home. He doesn't need you to be his knight in shining armor."

Something about Jet's words settled wrong and heavy and uncomfortable and it only made Sokka angrier. Maybe he didn't know Zuko all that well -- but nobody deserved the kind of shit that Jet was capable of. "Screw you," Sokka said suddenly, catching Jet's shoulder when he tried to pass, tried to ignore him. "I know him well enough to know he's better than your manipulative antics," he said hotly. "That he's better than  _you_." But even though his nose wrinkled with anger as he spoke the words, Jet suddenly seemed much, much taller.

For a long moment, Jet said nothing. He just stared back, as though looking for something in the hot temper and firm set of Sokka's jaw. Then he laughed, a rough, harsh sound. "He's really found himself a piece of work this time." Jet shook his head in disbelief, then his hand shot out, grabbing Sokka's chin, yanking him forward. "You might wanna figure out exactly what you're protecting him from before you volunteer," he sneered, pushed Sokka away, and hooked a toe around his ankle so he fell to the side as Jet passed. "Because I'm the least of your worries."

"Agh!" Sokka snarled as he collapsed far too easily under Jet's skilled hands. His knees hit the cold tiles hard and Jet brushed past him, unhampered. The door squeaked as he took his leave and left Sokka with his humiliation. "Dammit..." Sokka growled, hands fisting in the fabric of his pants to stop his fingers from shaking with anger.

Figure out what you're protecting him from... What the hell was that supposed to mean anyway!?


	9. Chapter 9

Sokka considered bringing up the subject of Jet that afternoon, to demand what had happened. But when his path crossed with Zuko's at the end of the day, he found the other boy distracted and somewhat irritable and his confidence regarding the subject drained. Instead, he trained his voice into something casual and brought up the subject of Zuko's uncle's patio.

He found that he really liked this whole plan of helping out at Iroh's. He didn't really care that it canceled his afternoon plans to play online with Suki (who was in a time zone 3 hours ahead) which somewhat surprised him. But it had been a long time since he'd built anything -- not since before his father got the job up north.

Iroh had turned out to be just as awesome as Sokka had anticipated and had given him a signed copy of his book which Sokka stammered over with delighted embarrassment. The first afternoon at Iroh's had mostly been taken up by Sokka talking to Zuko's uncle excitedly about their shared interest while Zuko and Aang exchanged confused looks.

The second afternoon after the run in with Jet, Sokka showed up alone. "Aang has a jiu jitsu class," he explained as Zuko let him in.

Zuko nodded distractedly and closed the door behind him. Iroh had drinks and a plate of sandwiches ready for them even though Zuko had insisted that he didn't need to go out of his way. Iroh wouldn't have it though, insisting that the meager wage he was paying them to help build the patio could only be made up for in snacks and iced tea. Zuko indicated the plate as Sokka followed him into the kitchen.

"There's roast beef and turkey," he explained. "And tea of course. Uncle is already in the garden."

"Ah, cool," Sokka said, sinking down at Iroh's kitchen table. He was never one to turn down a free meal -- especially one that involved red meat. He too was distracted though, watching Zuko carefully, quick to notice the way that the other boy avoided his eyes. He'd only met Zuko barely a month ago, but when they were around each other, he found himself strangely attuned to the other's moods. "Hey," he said after a thoughtful bite, having weighed his options, and knowing that if he was overstepping any invisible boundaries, Zuko would tell him so. "Are you okay?"

Zuko blinked and shook himself as though he hadn't noticed he was behaving in any way to make Sokka ask him such a question. "Huh? No-- I'm fine." He even smiled a little to prove it. "Just a little..." He trailed off, not finishing the thought.

Sokka frowned faintly. He had to wonder if Zuko had even noticed him when they'd almost collided earlier that day. "I had a tousle with Jet in the bathroom the other day," he said quietly. Iroh was outside -- they could see him from the window at the far corner of the garden and Sokka knew they wouldn't be interrupted. "Were you guys fighting?"

Zuko seemed surprised, or at least his brow lifted in that way he had. He didn't say anything for a long while though, instead following Sokka's glance outside before he looked at him again. "Y-yeah," he said, finally. "I guess so. Kind of." He picked up a sandwich, turkey, and nibbled at one end. He wasn't really hungry, but it seemed impolite not to eat at least a little.

"He's such an ass," Sokka growled, taking an angry bite. "I told him to leave you the hell alone," he added, reflecting on the words Jet had thrown at him about Zuko. "He really seems to have it out for you though."

"He's not really a bad guy," Zuko shook his head, uncertain why he felt this sudden, bristling need to defend Jet. "He's just-- it's complicated." He paused then, took a sip of tea and risked meeting Sokka's eyes. "Don't worry about him."

Sokka met his gaze uncertainly, frowning, but he had the distinct feeling that it would be a bad idea to push the subject further. He silently filed the conversation away in his memory and made a note to himself to keep Zuko away from the bully as much as he could. The thought startled him somewhat -- when had he decided he was going to 'protect' Zuko? Even Jet himself had pointed it out that afternoon. Maybe it was just Aang's enthusiasm rubbing off on him. But now that Zuko was settling in with them, and even Katara was grudgingly accepting his presence, it seemed like it would be a shame for him to be drawn back into whatever trouble he and Jet had experienced together. Zuko claiming he 'wasn't a bad guy' was rather disquieting but Sokka didn't point it out. Instead he moved on.

"Hey," he said, changing the subject and his tone to a much more cheerful one as he polished off his sandwich. "Guess what."

Zuko blinked, only slightly thrown by the sudden change in tone and topic. "Um, what?" he asked, pulling apart his sandwich to get at the meat and cheese and cucumbers and leaving the bread uneaten.

"I'm getting a car," Sokka said proudly. "I've been working on weekends ever since I could get the permit and I've finally got enough for it. I just -- I know that your dad took away your driver guy. So I thought, if you ever need to get somewhere..." He shrugged.

The bite of turkey Zuko had just swallowed seemed suddenly harder to get down, but he found himself smiling anyway, threading a hand awkwardly through his own hair. "That's... really awesome of you," he said. "I mean, congrats. On getting the car. Well, almost getting it." He didn't really understand why Sokka was being so nice. Or even how a few weeks ago he'd spent all his time  _avoiding_  people like Aang and Sokka, determined not to make friends his father would disapprove of. It still worried him and made him nervous, but he felt, somehow, that everything would work out.

"Come on," Zuko nodded, indicating the window. "We've got a patio to build."

"Ah, right," Sokka said with a grin.

Iroh greeted them heartily and Sokka thanked him for the snack before they settled in to work. The project was simple enough and Iroh had invested in all the materials and tools to do it with, though the older man admitted that this sort of thing was never exactly his specialty. Sokka thought it might run in the family, judging from the way Zuko held a hammer. Luckily, for all the guff that Sokka took for not being the perfect picture of masculinity, he had background in working with his hands enough to offer guidance and some level of skill on the project.

Hence when he glanced over at Zuko, who was sawing some planks, he had a minor panic attack. "Whoah!" he protested, scrambling up and choking back a laugh. He took Zuko's hand which had been bracing the plank in such a way that he inevitably would have sliced off a thumb. "If you really don't want to work on something, just say so, don't cut off an extremity for it," Sokka grinned, though his teasing was strangely gentle as he repositioned Zuko's grip.

Zuko flushed faintly, embarrassed, but didn't pull away as Sokka moved his hands into something that, in retrospect, seemed infinitely more intelligent. "I'm not very good at this sort of thing," he admitted, beginning to saw at the bit of wood once more, having a somewhat easier time of it now with Sokka's advice.

A strange, muffled sound caught his attention and he shot a glare toward the house as he caught his Uncle wandering past the door, hand over his laughing mouth.

"I don't think I would be either if I lived on the hill," Sokka said with a quiet laugh as he returned to his own work. He let his voice rise over the sound of the drill he was working with. "My dad taught me what I know -- Aang said your mom taught you about cooking. That's really cool. I'm not even allowed in the kitchen at home because things spontaneously combust."

Zuko fell quiet, thoughtful, but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence. After a moment, he nodded. "Yeah. I guess it's cool." He wasn't sure that it was  _really_  cool for a seventeen-year-old boy to be better at cooking than putting things together, but it had been something he shared with his mother and thus, he couldn't discredit it offhand. He wondered what she'd think if she saw him now, outside, sweaty and smudged, getting bruises and splinters and building a deck with someone he actually might be able to call a friend. His father would have thrown an utter fit if he'd seen it. Zuko thought maybe his mother would only smile and maybe worry a little when he smashed his thumb under the hammer for the umpteenth time. "Here," he said, passing Sokka an armload of the boards he'd cut.

"Thanks," Sokka said, taking a moment to wipe his brow with the back of his arm. Spring was settling in and the days were getting much warmer. "As long as it's not sewing," Sokka continued in the same train of thought as he dug through the hardware Iroh had purchased in search of a couple of brackets. "Now  _that's_  just for girls." He paused for a long moment, then added, "Don't tell Katara or Toph I said that."

Sokka's words, and his tough-yet-immediately-cautious attitude made Zuko laugh and he set aside the saw for a moment, settling onto the side of the frame they'd managed, somehow, to get up without much incident. His hair was already sticking to his brow and the sides of his face and he pushed at it ineffectively with the back of his hand. Despite the waning afternoon, the sun still reached the yard and in combination with the physical labor, Zuko found himself regretting even the thin cotton tank he wore. "Do all the women in your life want to beat you up or what?" he asked, the teasing in his voice surprising, but obvious.

"All except the one on the other side of the country," Sokka corrected sheepishly. He paused then with a faint frown. "And..." He trailed off, then quickly busied himself again with moving some of the boards. When he returned, he dug into his pocket and offered Zuko a hair tie with a vague smirk. His own hair was pulled back into a tight tail, keeping it thankfully out of his eyes.

Zuko accepted gratefully, wondering at first about Sokka's hesitation, then remembering what Aang had said about Sokka's first girlfriend. The one who'd died. "The one across the country?" he asked, hoping to distract Sokka from any unpleasant thoughts. "I dunno, Aang says she kicks your ass at WoW like every day. I think that counts." He grinned mischievously when Sokka looked his way, then lowered his hands from the hair he'd mostly, sort of, kind of managed to get into enough of a tie to pull it from his eyes. Unfortunately it also sort of, kind of made him look just a little ridiculous.

Sokka blinked a few times, his lips quivering as he looked upon Zuko with the ponytail more or less right on the top of his head. "That's very becoming on you," he said with a sage nod. "AND -- WoW doesn't work like that! We work together, not against each other. We're on a team together for going on missions. So no, she doesn't kick my ass!"

"But I bet she like... kills more stuff than you. Or something," Zuko continued, clearly knowing nothing about how the game worked but enjoying how easy it was to rile the other boy up. "Protects you from... wild winged boar or whatever. I bet you're an elf," he added, smirking. He didn't know much about it, but everyone knew elves were the pansies of fantasy.

"I'm NOT an elf!" Sokka said hotly, painfully easy to bait. "And that's a stereotype that all elves are gay, by the way! My character is a Draenei WARRIOR." Sokka leaned close then, poking a finger sharply into Zuko's chest. "If you're so interested maybe I'll make you play it sometime."

"Haha, no thanks," Zuko lifted his hands, shaking his head. "I already said I'd think about giving Pai Sho a shot again. I'm not gonna touch  _WoW_  for you." He smirked a little. "Even though I would totally kick your ass at it."

"You wouldn't -- that's not how -- augh, you're impossible!" Sokka snarled in frustration, shoving Zuko off the saw horse he was perched on and into the soft grass.

Zuko took the fall with surprising grace, rolling to the side to land on his back, then crossing his arms under his head and propping an ankle onto one knee, the picture of casual relaxation. "Thanks," he teased. "I wanted a break anyway." Then, before Sokka could answer or move away, he flicked out a toe to grab at the other's heel, toppling him easily. "Oops."

For his part, Sokka ended up in a much less graceful heap, ending the spill with a palm slapping over his own face in irritation. But then he sighed and sagged into the warm grass beside Zuko. "It's gonna take us until summer to build this thing at this rate."

Zuko said nothing for a while, just stared up at the shifting clouds and the clear sky in between. "I don't mind," he finally admitted, looking nowhere except up.

Sokka looked at the dark-haired boy from the corner of his eye for a long moment before he grinned and turned his own gaze skyward. "Yeah, me neither. But your uncle might kick our butts."

"Uncle's a very patient man. But yeah, I guess we should get back to it." Still he didn't move to sit up again. "Look/" He pointed up, indicating a particular cloud. "A cat."

This earned a glance over at the other boy -- he was surprised . Zuko had been so severe, so closed off the first time they'd crossed paths. Actually, he had been was downright nasty. But this person... Sokka twisted his body, moving closer to Zuko until their shoulders brushed, Sokka's head resting in the curve of Zuko's neck. From here he could see Zuko's perspective and spotted the cat immediately. "So it is. I like the steak better though."

With Sokka so close --touching, even-- Zuko tensed immediately. It was different when they were shoving or punching each other like friends, but this... this reminded Zuko of Jet. Of how they'd been at first. And it was hard to tell himself that Sokka was different, that he wasn't looking for anything from him. Wasn't dependent or sad or pushy or... angry. And slowly, he forced himself to relax, to avoid the urge to roll quickly away. "Yeah," he said finally, pointing again. "A steak. I see it."

Sokka laughed, somehow not feeling compelled to move away immediately. "You do realize that next time my sister says something about you being a cold-blooded killer, I'm going to tell her about you looking for kitty cats in the clouds, right?" He tried to looked over to see Zuko's expression but from the angle, he couldn't see the other's face at all.

"Oh no," Zuko moaned in monotone mock-agony, "My reputation! How will it ever survive!" Then, chuckling quietly he added, "It's cool. Toph will invent at least three more horrific rumors about me to make up for whatever you tell your sister. Which she won't believe anyway."

"Aw," Sokka said snickering. "You know she only abuses you because she likes you -- Toph, that is. I mean, not LIKES likes you but you know. At least I don't think so..."

Zuko raised a brow and turned his head to the side, ending up with a face full of Sokka's hair for his trouble. He huffed a startled breath and sat half up, propped on one elbow to look down at the other boy. "Sokka. You're rambling. Also, Toph's like twelve." He snorted faintly. "Don't worry. Even if she did --which would be weird-- I promise not to take advantage of your friend."

Sokka looked up at him with a funny expression, contemplative as he stared into the other's face. At first, it had been a little weird -- with that scar, there was an instinctual sort of feeling that he shouldn't look at Zuko's face, like he was being rude. But now it was natural and he didn't see the scar, he just saw Zuko whose hair had fallen out of the tie and was now very messy. "She's your friend too," was all he said.

Zuko blinked, stared at Sokka as though surprised by the words. "Yeah. I guess she is," he answered, but there was a strange little almost-smile at the corner of his mouth and maybe Sokka was imagining it, but he almost sounded... grateful.

The other boy then sat up, shoving Zuko back to the grass offhandedly as he did so. "C'mon, let's get back to work."

 


	10. Chapter 10

The following week, the patio was actually starting to take some shape in spite of the best efforts of the builders not to make any progress. Sokka had already turned down Iroh's offer of money for his labor in favor of Pai Sho tips and the autographed copy of his book.

On this particular afternoon, the whole gang was present -- Toph mostly for 'moral support' though Katara and Aang were helping out.

"Are you sure this is a patio?" Toph asked, her version of 'moral support' as she felt out the structure, moving slowly around it with light fingers in case of splinters or loose nails. "Because it just feels like a bunch of pieces of wood stuck together to me."

"But Toph, that's what a patio is..." said Aang, helplessly.

"This nail isn't pounded in all the way," she interrupted, ignoring Aang's protest.

"I'll get it," Zuko offered, but the younger girl held up a hand, halting him in his tracks.

"Oh no. I heard what you did to your thumb like five times already. Give me the hammer."

"Bu--”

"Just so you know," Katara warned, "She's twelve, but she can and  _will_ kick your butt."

Toph was giving a stern look somewhere off to Zuko's left, and it was all Zuko could do to keep a straight face as he placed the hammer in her open palm.

"Laugh it up, Pretty Boy," Toph scolded. "And watch the little blind girl kick your ass at construction."

"She helped me make Appa a dog house last summer!" Aang piped up cheerfully.

"Hey, Sweet-cheeks, don't you go advertising my charitable works. I've got a rep to keep up." With that, Toph took a brief moment to feel out the nail, and then with one sure and perfectly accurate pound, she sunk it all the way in. Then she sighed and started feeling her way around the forming structure again. "Guess I better do some quality control."

Sokka caught Zuko's gaze and rolled his eyes. "Girls," he muttered under his breath, and was then promptly startled into falling off of his perch on one of the sawhorses when his sister shouted in his ear.

"WHAT WAS THAT?"

Zuko laughed awkwardly and took the opportunity to step away from the downed boy. Friendship was one thing, Katara's wrath was another altogether.

"What he -meant- to say, I'm -sure-, was that girls are mysterious creatures with abilities far superior to his own," Toph interjected, punctuating her statement with a solid smash of the hammer. "That's why his  _girlfriend_  kicks his ass at WoW everyday."

"Oh my god, NONE of you people understand how this game works!" Sokka cried in frustration with the sharp smack of his palm against his forehead. Then he paused and coughed, pulling himself to his feet with dignity. "And for your information, Suki and I disbanded the guild."

Everyone stopped working. Katara gasped quietly, and Aang's eyes were wide. Toph was shaking her head.

"Sokka..." The angry edge was gone from his sibling's voice. "Are you okay?"

In the meantime, Zuko was staring between Sokka and the rest of them, doing his best to figure out what the hell they were talking about. He wanted to ask, but something about the way that even Toph's scoffing remarks had gone silent kept his own mouth shut. He managed to meet Aang's eyes with a quizzical expression and a shrug of his shoulders, hoping the other boy would clue him in.

Sokka was shrugging in response to his sister. "Honestly? Yeah," he said, sounding somewhat surprised at his own reaction.

Meanwhile Aang was creeping closer to stand on his tiptoes and whispered to Zuko, "The guild is the thing that him and Suki run on WoW. It's like the group of their friends and they all play together. It means they broke up."

"I mean, she was upset because I haven't been online as much.” Sokka shrugged. “But I was still texting her and emailing her regularly... I think she just liked me for my gaming skills. And there's more to me than that, you know?"

Toph spoke up. "Who is this and where is Sokka?"

Even Katara looked like she might reach out and pinch him just to be sure it was really Sokka standing there and saying those things.

Zuko still looked a little confused, but he seemed to have gotten the gist of it, nodding faintly in response to Aang's explanation. He still wasn't sure why Sokka didn't just say 'we broke up', but then he'd already admitted that he didn't really get most of this gaming stuff.

"Two weeks ago you were practically on the verge of tears because she wouldn't come visit for Spring Break," Katara was continuing, suspicious. "And now you're just fine?"

"I was not on the verge of tears!" Sokka said, defensive and embarrassed. "Look -- maybe I've just gained some perspective, okay? Aren't  _you_  the one that keeps telling me I shouldn't be looking for relationships online?" he asked pointedly, not-quite-glaring at Katara.

It was true, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to remain healthily skeptical. "Yeah, I said that," she admitted. "But I didn't say you should break up with her. I'm not a total jerk!"

"Does this mean I can finally take Sokka speed-dating?" Toph cut in. "Because I think it would be hilarious."

"I think you have to be over 18 to do that," Aang answered, a bit nervously, his gaze darting to Sokka's stony face.

"Killjoy," Toph shot back.

"SANDWICHES!" The rumble of the sliding glass door broke the tension as Iroh emerged from the house bearing a tray of sandwiches and a pitcher of iced tea. "Who's hungry?"

Sokka was more than thankful for this distraction, not really enjoying being the center of attention under these circumstances. He and Katara exchanged one last look before going to join the others for the food.

"Thanks, Uncle!" Aang was grinning as he scooped up the cucumber sandwich that Iroh had made specifically for his vegetarian preferences.

Iroh meanwhile was rounding the forming structure with a warm smile. ""This is coming along so nicely! You young people are so talented these days! No fingers lost yet, correct?"

"Not for lack of trying, eh, Fancy Pants?" Toph snickered, appearing suddenly beside Zuko to elbow him in the ribs.

"We're fine, Uncle." Zuko nodded, ignoring Toph's prodding mostly because any glare he turned her way would be useless. "Thank you for the food. And the tea."

Iroh beamed. "It's never too early to start enjoying a finely brewed tea. And the weather is just right to partake of it iced!"

Aang and Katara left with Toph a little early to walk her home, and Sokka and Zuko started cleaning up from the afternoon's work as the sun slowly approached the horizon.

"So is Uncle gonna let us dig him a pool next?" Sokka joked as he swept up sawdust.

Zuko chuckled quietly, kneeling to hold out the dustpan for Sokka. "Now that really _would_  take us all summer." This earned a snicker from his companion. "So... if you don't mind me asking," Zuko began as he stood once more, and gathered the scattered tools. "What were you planning for Spring Break? I mean, you know, since the uh... guild disbanding?"

"Huh? Oh..." Sokka rubbed at the side of his head, unknowingly filling his short hair with sawdust. "I dunno. Maybe catch up on my studies. I could use some extra credit to keep my grades up anyway. Maybe start looking at colleges or something. Normally I'd spend the whole week on WoW, but I guess I'm feeling kind of burned out on it. Don't tell the others, they'll cut open my head to make sure I'm not a pod person."

Zuko laughed quietly and settled on the steps, elbows resting on his knees as he looked out at the work they'd done so far. "We should... do something," he mused, almost thinking aloud. "Maybe go to the big museum in the city. They've got a mammoth. We could take pictures of it, and you could map out all the best escape routes."

Sokka looked at him suspiciously, and sunk down beside Zuko. "Are you making fun of me?" he asked with a little smirk. There was something about when Zuko's sense of humor revealed itself in little teasing comments that made Sokka want to grin, even when they were about himself. But before Zuko could answer, he continued. "I'd like that... I'll have my car by then. Would it be okay...?"

Zuko's expression sobered briefly. What would his father say? But then he shrugged. "If it's a class project..." he supposed. "Maybe Zei would give us extra credit or something." A pause, as he turned his head to catch Sokka's eye, a mischievous grin on his lips. "And yeah, I was making fun of you. But only because it's so easy.”

"Jerk," Sokka pouted, giving Zuko's shoulder a shove. "Kicking a man when he's down -- that's fighting dirty."

A huff of quiet laughter followed this accusation, but Zuko did give the thought some pause, and finally turned back to stare at the cement step between his feet. "I thought you said you were okay," he teased, but the words were surprisingly gentle and the statement came out more like a question. Zuko still remembered how difficult his breakup with Mai had been two years ago. And even with Jet, though Zuko had been the one to leave. He shook his head faintly, refusing to be distracted by  _those_  thoughts.

"I am," Sokka replied with a shrug. "I mean... mostly. It's not as much about  _her_  as it is about  _it_ ," he tried to explain -- inadequately he noticed when he caught Zuko's raised brow. "It's more like... just... feeling like I failed at something, I guess. Even if I'm not sad that it's over, it's just a reflection on how bad I am at this sort of thing." Sokka grimaced, realizing a moment too late the words that were escaping his mouth and that he was self-deprecating instead of boasting.

Zuko shrugged faintly. "I dunno. I don't think that's necessarily true. I mean... how many failed relationships have you had? Two? And from what Aang told me, the first one wasn't any mess-up on your part." He picked idly at a fingernail as he talked, unwilling to meet Sokka's eyes in case he was overstepping his bounds. "Anyway," he went on, a little more quickly. "Me too. Twice." He held up two fingers. "Both ended pretty badly. So, I mean... you know, you aren't alone. In that. You know."

There was a long moment of silence before Sokka spoke up again, "Really? You found two other people who shared your interest in eating babies? Or is that why it didn't work out?"

Zuko snorted,"Shut up." He shoved Sokka's shoulder hard enough that the boy had to grip the side of the step to keep from toppling over. "As a matter of fact, the first decided her abusive friends were more important than me. And the second... well that one's more complicated, I guess." He shook his head lightly. "But neither of them ate babies. As far as I know. How about you? Any baby-eaters in your past? Is that why you hang out with me?"

"Yeah, FINALLY I found someone that ENJOYS baby eating," Sokka said, snickering. "Nah, not really anything like that... I mean, even Suki just... I guess it turned out we didn't really have that much in common. I didn't really know her when we started 'dating'." He quoted with his fingers. He then paused for a long moment again, idly reaching for a stray stick to poke through the grass. "Did you like... love either of them?" he asked quietly.

Zuko seemed to consider this for a long moment, and stared at the backs of his hands like there might be some simple answer to read there. Then finally, he shrugged. "I dunno, really. I mean, do you know how you sort of  _feel_  like you must be in love at the time and then afterward you kind of wonder if you were only... caught up in the moment? I guess it was like that." It was weird to talk about and Zuko felt a certain tension creep into his shoulders at such casual mentions of both Mai and Jet. It'd been some time since he'd figured out that Aang's talk about Sokka 'liking' him was a matter of misinterpretation, and now he realized that he wasn't sure how Sokka would take to the knowledge that one of the relationships he was talking about had been with another guy.

"Yeah," Sokka said with a faint nod. "I can understand that. Like -- you really  _want_  to be, but that doesn't make it true." He paused. "It's not... always like that though," he amended as though he were somehow apologizing for something.

Zuko cast him a brief glance. "Yeah... I hope not, anyway." Then, "You loved her? The first one?"

"Mmm," Sokka responded quietly, still poking at the grass. He coughed softly -- it wasn't exactly something that he often talked about. "I think so," he finally continued. "But who knows? She was my first girlfriend anyway. I guess someone told you about it." He didn't sound like he minded. One less time that he'd have to explain it to someone.

Zuko hesitated but nodded. "Yeah, Aang told me. Sorry... I mean, if you didn't want to talk about it." He stretched out a toe, poking idly at an unopened can of wood stain.

"No," Sokka said quickly with a shake of his head. "It's okay." Why WAS he talking to Zuko about this, anyway, of all people? Maybe because they'd already had one conversation about death. "Just uh..." He offered a little grin to the other boy, trying to lighten the mood a little. "Just don't give up! Cause it's not always bad, you know?"

"Don't you dare let Toph take me to that speed-dating thing she was trying to rope you into," Zuko warned. "I'm not even close to being ready to-- I mean... and if I was it wouldn't be-- you know. Gimmicky crap like that." Besides, he reminded himself, there were two very big obstacles between him and dating. His father and Jet. Zuko sighed.

Sokka laughed quietly. "Neither of us will be going speed-dating, I promise," he said, seriously. "Why would you want that to be FAST, anyway? But anyway -- I think I'm swearing off girls for a while. Just too much trouble." He snickered. "Sounds like you're in the same boat."

"Yeah, you could say that," Zuko answered vaguely, his voice a little odd, but then he gave a small huff of laughter and stood, stretching, arms above his head, t-shirt riding up just enough to show a sliver of pale skin around his hips. Then he dropped his arms, and looked at his watch. "I'd better get going soon. Uncle said he'd give me a ride."

"Oh--right." Sokka rose quickly as well. "I uh -- I'll see you tomorrow." He had a strange, sudden urge to thank Zuko for listening to him but that was decidedly unmanly so he pushed it back. He was sure that Zuko understood somehow anyway.

Dusk was falling as Sokka walked home and he found himself musing over the conversation and caught himself wearing a strange grin which he schooled even though he was walking alone. He couldn't figure out exactly why he found himself so comfortable with Zuko, or why he caught himself wanting to look out for the other boy. That for instance, he was again experiencing the intense desire to kick Jet's ass, with the same angry drive that he'd felt when the older boy had toyed with his sister. Jet's words came back to him, his snipe that Sokka should know what he was protecting.

Zuko was his opposite in nearly everything -- he was quiet and closed off where Sokka was noisy and wore his heart on his sleeve. He thought before he spoke, while Sokka blurted. Zuko was rich and he -- well, he wasn't POOR, but his family was definitely middle-class. But he heard the humor that sometimes came through in Zuko's voice and could see the warmth in him that seemed like it was just looking for some way to escape. Like he'd been hiding it for a long time, maybe because of his family, or maybe because he just hurt. Sokka could understand that.

He reflected on the conversation they'd had -- he still couldn't imagine Zuko having a girlfriend. It just seemed to him like she would bug him or step on his toes or something. Plus he just couldn't imagine Zuko wanting to kiss someone. But then again, maybe he just didn't know the other boy THAT well yet. His old girlfriends were probably snotty girls from his old school anyway -- no wonder he wasn't interested in dating anymore.

About twenty minutes too late, Sokka suddenly realized exactly what he'd SAID. That he was 'swearing off girls'. Walking alone, he palmed his face and groaned -- that sounded so stupid and  **GAY**! Why would he say that!? It wasn't that he didn't LIKE girls anymore, just that... Ugh. How did he manage to embarrass himself at EVERY turn?


	11. Chapter 11

A few days later, the two boys met up again to go to Iroh's for the afternoon. Iroh himself was out for the day so they were walking -- Sokka boasted that it'd be the last time they'd have to since he'd be getting his car that weekend.

They were only a few blocks away from the school when a third set of footsteps suddenly joined theirs, seemingly from nowhere. Sokka startled, nearly falling on his face when Jet appeared at his side, casually strolling with them.

"Man, you two are practically married now, huh?" he said slyly, a joint smoldering between his teeth.

Zuko had to swallow the urge to snap, to grab Sokka's wrist and turn them both right around. Instead he took a breath, shoved his hands in the pocket of his hoodie and stared straight forward. "My uncle's expecting us," he spoke, ignoring Jet's taunt, and making it clear they had somewhere to be and someone who would wonder if they were late. "We don't have time to chat." This could be bad, Zuko knew. He'd managed to avoid Jet for almost four days --a record, lately-- and he suspected the taller boy was less than pleased about it.

"Home to meet the family. How cute." Jet was sure to let his smoke catch the breeze just right that it went into Sokka's face, sending the younger boy into a coughing fit. "It's cool -- my place is this way."

"We don't need your company," Sokka wheezed irritably, trying to fan the foul-smelling smoke out of his face.

"I don't recall asking you." With a pluck, Jet was shoving Sokka out of his way, switching their places so that he was beside Zuko instead. "You're really not sick of this nerdy twerp yet?" he asked, flawlessly shifting the joint between his lips so that the smoke didn't reach Zuko as it had his companion. He had that smirk -- the knowing, confident one that he knew would get him what he wanted, no matter what it was.

The expression only made Zuko bristle, however, and square his shoulders more firmly. "His name is Sokka, Jet," he said, understanding that he needed to be direct with the other boy if he was ever going to shake Jet's unrepentant attention. "And no. I'm not sick of spending time with my friend. I  _am_  getting a little tired of your disrespect."

Sokka scowled, his ears burning with anger but somewhat helpless in the situation. He felt bad that Zuko had to defend them like this and was humiliated at his own inability to deter Jet.

The unwanted visitor swayed close, his breath just reaching Zuko's ear when he said quietly but not  _that_  quietly, "That's not what you said in your bedroom a few weeks back."

Zuko froze, eyes widening as his pulse began thundering suddenly in his throat. He thought maybe Jet began to say something else, but he heard nothing beyond the rush of blood in his ears. He whipped around and grabbed Jet by the collar, wrenching him back then forward again. "You shut the hell up," he hissed sickly, unable to glance over Jet's shoulder to see whether Sokka had heard Jet's accusation or not.

Jet blinked at him, surprise apparent at the other's sudden vitriol. But then his eyes narrowed and a cruel grin thinned his lips. He jerked away from Zuko's grip, instead suddenly putting an arm around the skittish younger boy. Sokka glared at him from the corner of his eye with mixed apprehension and disgust, snarling a protest when Jet blew smoke in his face again. "So what do you actually know about our dear friend, SOKKA?" Jet asked, voice sickly sweet. "Has he told you about his old schools? About how he was kicked out for stealing from the facilities? Among other things."

Sokka hesitated to answer, glancing at Zuko briefly before shoving Jet away. "I don't care about that, you jerk."

"Ooooh," Jet laughed, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "How very benevolent that you'd be friends with him even in spite of that. He must have told you then about his other deviancies."

" _Jet_ ," Zuko warned, stepping forward, fists clenched. "Don't." He didn't want to beg. He didn't want Jet to think he was willing to beg. But this wasn't going anywhere good, and the dangerous glint in Jet's eye couldn't be trusted. "It's not your place," he hissed. If Sokka was going to know, Jet was the last person Zuko wanted him to find out from.

But with his words, Zuko saw the glint flash and something snap in Jet. He reeled, turning to step in front of Zuko, facing him as the three of them halted suddenly under his movement. "Not my place, huh?" he repeated, cruelty razor sharp in his voice. "Oh, I think it's perfectly my place. I'm just looking out for this kid -- I think he's got a right to know that his new BFF is a queer. That even if his taste in guys is changing, he still likes sucking--"

The punch that cracked across Jet's jaw caught him completely off guard. He was wholly focused on Zuko and when Sokka's fist met his face, there wasn't much skill behind the blow, but there was enough anger to send him stumbling to the side.

"You little shit!" Jet snarled, regaining his footing and Sokka seethed, ready to take him on even if his own ass was handed to him on a platter.

But before either could land a blow, Zuko was there, between them, grabbing Sokka by the front of his shirt and shoving him back and out of the way before spinning to face Jet, face hard and hurt. "Damn you!" Zuko shouted, advancing on him angrily. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" His hands were on Jet's jacket once more, and he could already see the purpling skin at Jet's jaw. "Why are you here, Jet? What do you want? Things can  _not_  be like they were before! Don't you get that? You're fucked up! I don't even know you anymore. Just leave me alone!" With every angry word ground out between his teeth, Zuko shook the taller boy as though praying that something would get through to him.

He was staring into Zuko's face as he shouted but suddenly Jet snapped out of the trance and gave Zuko a sharp shove away from him. "Fuck if I care!" he snarled but in spite of the anger in his voice, his face was wounded. "You're fucking sickening," he spat, accusing. "I never CARED anyway! So enjoy your nerd in shining armor, you pussy little faggot!" He flicked the smoldering stub of his joint at Zuko before he stormed in the other direction.

Zuko stared after Jet, nothing left in him to bring himself to yell any parting shots. In fact, all he really had the energy to do was sag, dropping to a crouch, hands on his knees as he remembered how to breathe normally, fought the surging sick feeling in his stomach. "Dammit," he swore, swallowing hard and painfully around the knot that had taken up residence in his throat. "Fuck!" He hardly felt his knuckles make contact with the concrete.

Sokka had been still marveling somewhere in the back of his head that he'd just punched Jet in the face and was completely unscathed. But then he rushed to crouch beside Zuko, his own heart racing from what he'd just witnessed even if he'd yet to really process it. "Zuko..." he managed, wincing at the scraped knuckles that came back from the sidewalk.

Zuko didn't seem to notice the faintly oozing scrapes, palms coming up to push back through his hair, a shaky breath hissing between teeth as he fought to find his center again. "I-- I didn't mean for you to see that," he mumbled, his mind turning over everything Jet had just said.  _Pussy little faggot_...

"I know," Sokka said gently, his own throat a little tight. This was one of the weirdest things he'd ever experienced -- but that didn't matter for the moment. He needed right now to make sure that Zuko would be okay. "C'mon... let's go to your uncle's," he urged, lightly taking the other boy's elbow.

Surprisingly, Zuko let the other pull him to his feet, and though he put a good space between them when they began walking again, still he kept pace with Sokka, failing to insist that he just go on home. Zuko thought maybe he should have. He didn't need the help and he didn't want to have the conversation that was inevitable. But he said nothing, just kept walking until they were standing in front of Iroh's house and it was too late to send Sokka home. So he let them in and closed the door, pocketed the key and looked around the living room like he didn't recognize it. Finally, after a long moment, he crossed the floor, and sank onto the end of the well worn green sofa.

Sokka hesitated for a long moment, but then he dropped his bag by the door and disappeared deeper into the house. After a few minutes of looking through Iroh's bathroom, he came back and handed Zuko a damp cloth and a tube of antiseptic for his hand before he sat down, giving the space he knew the other boy needed. Then he coughed and finally spoke up. "So... um... was that..." He paused. "Was that like... real or just Jet being a complete asshole? Because I can't figure it out."

With the cloth draped over his injured knuckles, and his feet drawn up under him, Zuko avoided Sokka's gaze while he considered the question. For a long time he said nothing, and only when Sokka looked awkwardly away to examine a woodblock print on the wall did Zuko clear his throat reluctantly. "We-- Jet and I... were... involved. Back at Arbor."

The first thing that Sokka wanted to say was, 'Why that jerk!?' but somehow he stilled his tongue long enough to realize that was probably not the most sensitive thing to say at that moment. So instead he said, "Oh." Then another long, awkward pause. "He must have changed a lot." What the hell was he supposed to say? He wanted to know why Zuko hadn't told him -- and he was also running over and over the countless nasty snaps that had come from Jet's mouth about himself and Zuko being gay together and it was making the back of his neck hot with retrospective embarrassment. That must have been horrible for Zuko.

"Yeah," Zuko sighed. "He did." He lifted the rag, and pressed lightly at his scraped knuckles. Opening the tube of cream, he rubbed a little in, wincing only slightly, more in embarrassment than in pain. "Look, I'm sorry you... had to hear all that. I-- no one else even knows. And -- I wasn't lying before. I did have a girlfriend back at Hakan. Jet was just..." he trailed off, not knowing the words he'd need to finish that thought.

"Hey, just so you know..." Sokka said abruptly, his voice suddenly bubbling up again. "I don't care. I mean... whatever, who cares? It sucks that you had to deal with that jerk of all people but -- people are just people, right? What should if matter if you like --" Jet's slanderous words tumbled into Sokka's memory and he stopped for a moment, flushing. "I think Haru's probably gay," he finally concluded.

Zuko raised a brow, cast a glance at Sokka. "Um, okay," he replied, clearly finding this announcement just a little odd. Then he turned away again, shaking his head. "But, thanks... I guess. Anyway." He frowned a little, flopping an arm over the side of the couch and allowing himself a long-suffering sigh. "You're not gonna tell anyone about this?" he added, quietly, after another brief pause.

Sokka had to wonder why, given the situation, it was HIMSELF who was blushing like crazy -- mostly in humiliation of his own stupid, stumbling words. "No-- no," he said,before he took a deep breath for composure. "Seriously, Zuko. It's no big deal. Nobody needs to know, it's not their business." It wasn't even  _his_  business, right?

"Mm," Zuko agreed with a little nod before turning to lean back against the arm of the sofa, staring at the ceiling, feet stretching out over the cushion until his toes were near enough to almost touch Sokka's leg. "I'm sorry he's been... you know, harassing you. Just... the things he says, they don't mean anything. So, I mean... I hope it hasn't bothered you too much."

"No, not really," Sokka said with an odd expression, his brow furrowed. "I mean, honestly... until today, I figured it was just Jet being a rock-headed macho dick. But now there's some sort of beautiful irony in him calling me a queer." He coughed again then, second guessing his own language. Was it okay to use that word? Was that observation grossly offensive? He plowed on hurriedly. "I was more concerned about him hassling you, really. When uh... when we had it out last week, he told me I should stop protecting you. I guess that makes more sense now."

"He used to be... a really good guy. I really looked up to him," Zuko mused, threading and unthreading his fingers across his stomach. "He was really my first friend after Hakan. And then it's like..." He gestured vaguely, and dropped his hand again, shrugged. "Sorry, I'm sure it seems so... weird. I'm fine though, really," he added, almost convincingly.

Sokka shrugged too. "It's not weird," he said sincerely, trying to make up for his stupid babbling earlier. "I mean..." He steeled himself to speak the next words. "I just know him in a bad light. There's always more facets to a person than what they show every day."

Zuko nodded faintly. "Yeah. Aang's really good at seeing that." He gave a sort of half-smile. He wouldn't have even given Sokka or any of them a second glance if Aang hadn't decided all the Hitler-worshiping rumors weren't true.

The other answered with a sheepish laugh. "That he is. I'm not as good at that -- for which I apologize." He grinned faintly at Zuko. "But lucky for us, we have him around."

"Yeah," Zuko answered, gathering the courage to look up and meet Sokka's eyes. "I guess we are lucky."

Sokka's grin widened, glad that Zuko could still look him in the eye. They could definitely get through this. He paused to run a hand through his hair and then said, "I hate secrets personally -- they're no good unless you've got at least one person to share them with, right?" He couldn't really imagine what Zuko had been forced to deal with in this situation but he couldn't imagine that it had been pleasant not letting anyone else know. He hoped that maybe there could be a bright side to Jet being such a jerk -- that maybe sharing the secret would alleviate the stress just a little.

Zuko couldn't help but laugh a little. Sokka was trying so hard to find a positive spin to everything and even though it showed, Zuko found he didn't mind. Rather, he appreciated it in way. That Sokka was looking for the up side of the situation instead of being scared off or disgusted or angry... it was a genuine relief, and he felt like it might even be possible to relax just a little.

Even Sokka himself wasn't sure where the sudden sort of optimism came from -- it was decidedly out of character. But he didn't like seeing that crease in Zuko's brow, and found himself looking for some way to replace it with a smile even as worries filtered through his thoughts. Like the fact that he'd punched Jet in the face, that Jet had the ability to spread some very nasty rumors, and that he'd already been calling Sokka Zuko's boyfriend... It was some very dangerous knowledge in equally dangerous hands.

"Yeah," Zuko said. "But now you have to tell -me- a secret. So we're even. Otherwise it's not fair at all."

"What?" Sokka groaned in protest. "I don't have any secrets!"

Zuko chuckled, stretched out a toe to poke Sokka in the ribs. "What? I don't believe you. Everyone has secrets. Even if it's just... 'I ate cat poop out of the sand box as a kid.' And before you ask, no, I only watched someone do that. I was too smart to believe it was candy."

Sokka choked back a laugh and hesitated thoughtfully, hemming. How good a person was he? He guessed one sex-related secret deserved another. "Fine," he finally said, grudgingly. "Now -- okay, I don't do this anymore. But when I was younger, like... thirteen, I used to go on chat rooms on line for... well, you know, cybersex." Really, that was probably enough. But Sokka, being Sokka, found that his mouth just continued. "And one time I started talking to this girl and we started messing around... and then like halfway through, she said she wanted to start pretending like we were cats."

If Zuko had been drinking, he would probably have fallen victim to a spit-take. As it was, he still managed to half-choke on nothing, and quickly brought a hand to cover his mouth. "Um. Cats?" Then, "Did you do it?" he prompted, eyes glinting with barely withheld humor.

There was a long, pregnant pause. "Yes," he finally said. "But I didn't  _like_  it!"

Zuko coughed into his fist. It took a moment to collect himself again. "Well. That's good," he finally said. "Because otherwise you'd have way more issues than me."

Sokka suddenly grabbed Zuko's bare foot, pressing the tip of his thumb into the soft part right into the middle of his arch, threatening a tickle. "If you EVER tell anyone that though," he said, pointing a finger. "I will kill you seven different ways."

"Hey!" Zuko's voice rose dangerously close to a shriek as he kicked out reflexively, not quite managing to break Sokka's hold. "Secrets aren't any fun if everyone knows them, anyway!"

There was a devious glint in Sokka's eye but he didn't reach for Zuko's foot again. Instead he just said ominously, using a single finger to point down at the foot, "I'm going to remember that."

Zuko blanched faintly, then, strangely, flushed pink. "You wouldn't dare use that against me."

"Try me," Sokka threatened smoothly. "Or maybe I'll just attack when you least expect it." A brow was arched high. Under normal circumstances, he would have grabbed Zuko's foot right then and tickled him until he screamed like a little girl. But considering the events of the afternoon, it didn't seem like the right thing to do at the moment. So instead he just let the threat hang.

"I am never taking off my shoes around you again," Zuko promised sternly, slowly withdrawing his foot as though suspecting that Sokka might change his mind and snatch it up again.

Eyes narrowed. And then Sokka lunged.

This time, Zuko did shriek, startling backward and grabbing for his knees. Sokka didn't actually grab his feet. What he did do was burst into hysterical laughter at the sound that had burst from Zuko's throat until he slid off the couch and onto the floor.

When Zuko realized he'd been faked out, another sound, only slightly less high-pitched emerged from his throat and he slid down the length of the couch toward Sokka's curled form and began jabbing him with his heels in the fleshy part of his torso. "You jerk!" he crowed, but in moments he was grinning, laughing between the hurled insults. "I'm gonna get you for that!"

"Ow - ow - ow!" Sokka was barely managing the syllables between his laughter which only seemed to be fueled further by Zuko's abuse. "Okay okay! I give! Aaah my ribs!"

Zuko got in another good thump before he stilled his feet, not bothering to lift them from where they now rested on Sokka's side. "That'll teach you," he sniffed, a smirk belying his true humor.

It took a moment for Sokka to catch his breath and he made no protest, going limp with a deep sigh. Then he said, "...I punched Jet in the face."

Zuko couldn't help but laugh a little at this, at the consternation in Sokka's voice. Still, he sobered quickly, leaning back with a thoughtful sigh of his own. "Yeah," he nodded. "You sure did."

Sokka grimaced a little. So it actually had happened. "Do you think he'll... you know... want to kill me?" he asked. Obviously Zuko knew him a lot better than he did. The most that Sokka knew about him was the simple fact that Jet could beat the ever-loving hell out of him without breaking a sweat.

"Maybe he'll want to." Zuko shrugged, pensive. "But I don't think he'll do anything about it. It's not really you he's mad at anyway," he added with a glance for the back of Sokka's head.

"Yeah," Sokka said with a grunt. Then, "I feel like I should thank you."

"What?" Zuko blinked, lifting his feet from Sokka's side. "Why?"

Sokka shrugged. "Because... well, this is gonna sound stupid. I know he's not as bad as I think, but I've wanted to do that ever since he messed with my sister. But I couldn't do it until I was THAT mad in just THAT moment, with him right there. So it was kind of... liberating, I guess? That might make me sick."

But Zuko shook his head, and then leaned forward to rest his arms on his knees and his chin on his arm. "No, I don't think it makes you sick. Believe me, there have been many times I felt that urge. With various people. Contrary to rumor, I only occasionally acted on them."

The younger boy offered him a grateful sort of grin. "So do you actually want to work on the patio today? Or do you want to watch six more Bruce Lee movies?"

Zuko found a smile and nodded toward the TV. "Maybe not six this time though," he amended. "How about we start with one and see where it goes from there?"

"Yeah, okay," Sokka replied with a snicker. After so much excitement for one afternoon, it seemed like something that would do them both some good, and it was nice to settle in on the couch in the glow of the television. Halfway through the film, Sokka pulled Zuko's feet into his lap from beside him. At first the other boy startled defensively, and Sokka had to offer him a sheepish grin as a truce. He wasn't sure himself exactly why he did it. Maybe because he thought that some physical comfort would do Zuko some good, no mater how small. Maybe because he wanted the other boy to know that he wasn't afraid of him, that nothing had changed and if anything he felt closer for having gone through the strange ordeal with him. Or maybe just because it felt kind of nice.


	12. Chapter 12

Saturday afternoon, Aang had requested Zuko's company. He had asked Zuko to come with him to take his dog to the salon. Apparently the dog was so large that when it got genuinely dirty, Aang's guardian wouldn't put it in the car so he would have to walk the dog to the groomer. When Zuko arrived at Aang's house (which was on the other side of their school from Sokka and Katara's neighborhood) the door was open and the screen was latched. A wide-eyed Siamese cat stared at him from the front window and meowed once as he approached the front door. Before he could knock, or ring the bell, or call into the house, however, the dog appeared.

In spite of Aang's description, Zuko could not have imagined how huge this dog was. It was a St. Bernard but it had to have been twice as large as the largest dog he'd ever seen. It wasn't a dog. It was a horse. And it was standing in the foyer inside the door, staring at him. And then lazily it walked forward to the screen, looked up at him for a moment, and then BARKED. Just once. But the sound was huge and deep and seemed to rattle Zuko's bones.

There was, Zuko had to later admit, a brief period of time in which he nearly turned right around and walked --okay, ran-- back the way he came. But if Aang, shrimpy twig-legged Aang, could handle a beast that large, then Zuko could hardly wimp out now. So he laughed, more than a little uncomfortably and slowly approached the front door. "Heeey, dog," he called, gently, tentatively. "You could so easily fit my whole head in your mouth, couldn't you? Haha..."

"What's up, Appa?" Aang's voice called from inside the house before his head peeked around the corner. "Oh! Hi Zuko!" He hurried to let the other boy in, gently pushing the huge dog away from the door so that he could open it. Appa did not lunge or attack when Zuko stepped tentatively into the house, but did approach him calmly to sniff at Zuko's hand. Meanwhile the cat tore across the room suddenly, circling them once to then climb up Aang's pant leg, up his back and _into_  the hood of the sweatshirt he was wearing. The animal stared at Zuko from over Aang's shoulder, and the younger boy acted like he hadn't even noticed. "Thanks for coming over! I hate doing this alone."

Zuko stared between the cat's large unblinking eyes, and Appa's lazy lolling tongue, and chuckled nervously. "Yeah, sure, Aang." Then, "You've got some interesting pets." Appa's reply was to happily douse the back of Zuko's hand in warm dog spit. Zuko grimaced faintly, lifted his dripping hand. "I guess that means he likes me?"

Before Aang could answer though, Appa's huge weight pushed into his legs with his heavy shoulder and took Zuko's feet out from under him. The dog effectively shoved him down onto the plush carpeting beside the foyer and laid one huge, wet lick along the side of Zuko's face. Aang laughed hysterically at this point and said, "THAT means he likes you!"

"Ah! Oh god, get him off!" Zuko was wailing dramatically, torn between disgust and laughter as he held his hands out in an attempt to keep the dog's dripping muzzle away from his face. At the same time he was doing his best --and failing-- to pry himself out from under Appa's weight.

Aang was still laughing as he grabbed Appa's thick leather collar and used all of his might to pry the dog away from Zuko. "Sit Appa!" Appa huffed heavily but he did sit down, his brown eyes following Zuko as his master helped the older boy up. "He *really* likes you," Aang laughed and tugged Zuko by the sleeve into the kitchen so he could wipe his face off. The house was somewhat spartan and decorated with bright fabrics and what appeared to be Indian knick knacks.

"Being popular with animals is a new one for me," Zuko snorted faintly, as he splashed water on his sticky face, and dried off with the towel Aang passed him. "So how far is the groomer's?" he asked when he was done and they were making their way back to the front.

"Oh, it's not too far. Like a fifteen-minute walk," Aang answered, and Appa rumbled in his throat in anticipation as he clipped the dog's leash to his collar. Aang reached back to take the cat out of his hood and set it down. "We'll be back later, Momo," he said as he hefted a backpack onto his shoulders. "Do you really not have any pets?" Aang asked curiously as they reached the sidewalk. The dog wanted to walk between them but the sidewalk just wasn't big enough to accommodate this and Aang had to give his rump a push to make Appa walk in front of them.

Zuko shook his head as they walked, occasionally reaching down to pet Appa's back when he lagged, trying to walk closer to the two boys. "My dad has horses, but I don't think they really count..." It was, thankfully, a bright clear day, the stormy weather they'd been having finally moving on and leaving the air clean, and the sky blue. Zuko didn't want to think about how much more Aang's dog would weigh if he was -wet-.

"HORSES?" Aang's voice suddenly rose excitedly. "I LOVE horses. Riding animals is the BEST! I used to ride on Appa when I was little. I still can but he gets tired quick now that I'm bigger." He laughed. "Do you horseback ride?"

Zuko chuckled quietly at Aang's never-ending enthusiasm. "I used to a lot when I was younger. My father insisted I learn. Haven't done it much since starting high school, though. I guess it was pretty fun," he admitted, remembering the hours he'd spent with the horses, trotting past his mother, who applauded him proudly.

"Personally," Aang confided, "I want to ride a whale. Or a polar bear. Or an ostrich. If only there were FLYING birds big enough to ride." He sighed wistfully.

Zuko grinned, reaching out to scruff at the back of Aang's head. "Maybe they just haven't discovered them yet," he suggested. "You should become a zoologist and go out in the world to discover new animals."

Aang's eyes widened at this suggestion. "That would be GREAT!" he agreed. "As soon as I'm sixteen, I want to get a part time job at the zoo. Even if I have to work in the gift shop, it'll be awesome. Hey, how come you don't have a car?"

It seemed that Aang's abrupt changes of topic hadn't completely stopped and Zuko blinked as he caught up with the boy's train of thought. "Ah, it's just... um, a rule. Of my dad's. I can get a car when I'm eighteen, if I show him I'm, you know, responsible enough and stuff." The likelihood of this seemed to be fading, Zuko thought, frowning. He doubted Ozai would feel so generous if Zuko hadn't even managed to be re-entered in Hakan by then.

An eyebrow quirked in a sympathetic sort of way. "Eighteen?" he repeated. "Your dad's pretty strict..." Though there was no judgment in his voice, simply observation.

Zuko nodded, shrugging too as he hooked his thumbs in his jeans pockets. “Yeah, I guess so. I never really thought he was until I... came to public school and saw how much other kids' parents let them do. I dunno. It's not so bad."

"Is private school REALLY different?" Aang asked curiously. "Did you have to wear uniforms?"

"Yep. They're dark red with gold piping. My dad's favorite colors. It's... pretty different. But, you know, there's still cliques, and there's still bullies and nerds and all that. It's just that almost everyone is from upper class families with important connections and stuff. And it's really well known and, you know, prestigious."

Aang was listening to him, nodding faintly. "I guess people are just people no matter how much money they have," he said with a shrug. "I just think it'd be weird for everybody to be dressed the same!"

"It's not so weird." Zuko shrugged. "People just find different ways of expressing themselves than clothes. Like.. hair and accessories and even the other people they hang out with..."

Aang paused for a moment thoughtfully, giving Appa another push forward when he lingered again. "Do you like our school?" he asked at length, looking up at Zuko curiously.

Zuko met his eyes with mild surprise. He spent so much time thinking about getting back into Hakan that it had never crossed his mind to think about the school he was at now. "It's okay, I guess," he finally answered. "I mean, I got to meet you guys here, right?" he added, trying to soften the mediocre assessment of Rockwave.

The younger boy nodded but before he could say anything, he glanced up the street and noticed their destination -- a shop proclaiming itself as 'Rub-a-Dub Dog' with a sign in the front of a very happy looking mutt in an old fashioned bath tub. "There it is!" he said cheerfully, and Appa rumbled in his throat as they entered the place, clearly recognizing the location. Inside, there was a counter at the front and most of the building was otherwise pretty open. The floors were concrete with drains here and there and the walls were lined with raised tubs of various sizes that had steps leading up to them.

"Oh!" The girl at the counter seemed to recognize Aang. "Our biggest customer is here!" she laughed and she and Aang chatted briefly as he paid for their space.

Zuko followed them over to the extra-large tub, but was surprised when the girl saluted cheerfully. "Well, I'll leave you to it! Looks like you've got some good help with you today!"

When she was gone, Zuko turned back to Aang, blinking. "Wait, you mean, you do it yourself? You don't... just like leave the dog and come back later?"

"Nah," Aang replied easily as he undid Appa's collar. "I've been doing it myself since he was this big." He indicated the size of a large cat, what must have been Appa's size as a small puppy. And clearly the dog was accustomed to the ritual because as soon as Aang had his collar off, he climbed the few steps on his own to sit down heavily in the tub with a grunt. "He's starting to loose his winter coat," Aang explained, and dumped out the contents of his backpack which included several bottles of dog shampoo and conditioner as well as few different types of brushes and combs.

"Ah, okay..." Zuko looked around, uncertainly, and stepped around the back of the tub to see if anything looked different from that angle. "Um. What should I do?" he finally asked, admitting his utter cluelessness.

"Well, first you might want to take off your jacket," Aang said with a laugh. "Here." There were smocks hanging beside the tubs, and he handed one to Zuko before replacing his own sweatshirt. He then started up the water, adjusting the temperature. The bath was huge but not as high off the ground as the others since it was intended for large dogs, and it sported two separate hoses with shower heads that had squeeze triggers. Aang handed one to Zuko and explained, "It takes a LOT of water for him to get wet." Appa groaned faintly when Aang turned his hose on the animal and the water bounced off his incredibly thick coat for a minute before it even started to absorb some.

Zuko watched Aang and mimicked his actions, turning his hose on the dog's rear, watching it soak into his tail and then taking a face-full of water when Appa wagged happily, flinging damp fur back and forth until there was hardly an inch of Zuko's front still dry. It had only been three minutes. When Appa was good and soaked, Aang passed Zuko a bottle of shampoo and started pouring his own between both hands, scrubbing it into Appa's coat with some effort. "How much do I use?" Zuko asked.

"The whole thing," Aang explained. "It takes about two bottles for him. He's got so much fur!" Apparently the state that Zuko found himself in was not a matter of inexperience -- because when he looked over at Aang, the other boy was no less soaked than himself. Appa, meanwhile, was very vocal about the whole experience; growling and whining quietly though he put up no protest, he moved very easily however Aang directed him. "He likes it," Aang explained in case Zuko was worried that the huge dog was upset. Appa turned as they scrubbed at seemingly endless, impossibly thick fur and started licking the soap suds off of Zuko's arms. Meanwhile, the soap that dripped off his body was dark with freed dirt and shedding fur.

"Ugh, don't lick it," Zuko protested, pushing at Appa's nose with his elbow, and scowling as Appa only took it as a new opportunity to find the suds that had escaped him previously. "That can't be good for you." He reached up to scrub behind the dog's ears, eliciting a wide-mouthed yawn of approval.

Aang laughed, grinning at Zuko over Appa's head. Finally they were out of shampoo, and Appa was dripping with heavy suds from head to toe. Aang took a moment to carefully wash around the dog's face and then rinsed that first, making sure that he didn't get any soap in Appa's eyes. Then he started the task of rinsing the coat. This yielded huge clumps of fur which Aang had to retrieve from the drain so it didn't stop up. "He's really easy to bathe," Aang told Zuko, squeezing water out of the dog's tail. "Once I had to give Momo a bath. I'll never try that again."

"I've never had a cat, and even I could have told you that would be a bad plan," Zuko pointed out, fetching his own hose once more and following Aang's lead began the long slow process of rinsing the soap from Appa's fur. "So... who usually helps you with this?"

"Katara helps me sometimes, but she gets kind of grossed out," Aang confided with a giggle. "Basically whoever will help me! Sokka's really good at cleaning between his toes." Appa chose that moment to sneeze. Luckily, he did so toward the tile wall, but the vibration of his body still showered them with water.

Zuko flinched, eyes squeezing shut until after a moment he opened them again, hesitantly, as though making sure it was over. "I think Sokka -likes- getting dirty and wet," Zuko scoffed.

"Huh?" Aang blinked at him. "No -- Sokka actually hates gross things. When he helps me, he wears dish gloves and a rain coat."

Zuko laughed at the image; he could perfectly imagine the scene. "He doesn't seem to mind it when we work on the patio," he mused, scrubbing his fingers through Appa's coat, feeling for places still slick with soap.

Aang shrugged. "I guess it's sticky, wet things he doesn't like. Like mud or snot," he amended. He paused to retrieve the conditioner. .

"I think most people would prefer to avoid getting covered in mud or snot," Zuko pointed out with a grin, holding out his hands for a good glob of the conditioner which he then began working into Appa's fur. "So... how come Sokka didn't help you this time?"

"I dunno," Aang replied. "He was busy today. Besides, I wanted you to help me! Sokka gets you all to himself all the time." Aang shot him a grin, hands buried in thick, damp fur.

Zuko didn't seem to notice the flush that touched his face with Aang's words, because he only smiled and shook his head. "Well, this wasn't as bad as I thought it would be when we first walked in," Zuko admitted, giving Appa a wet pat on the head. "We'll just have to tell Sokka about all the fun he missed out on."

"He really likes you," Aang said with a laugh.

Zuko shrugged. "He's just glad I don't tease him about his gaming." He chuckled lightly, fingers digging deep in Appa's fur as they worked the conditioner thoroughly. "Besides, Sokka likes tough guys, wrestlers and shopping remember? I'm -terrible- at shopping," he joked, pushing the hair from his eyes with the back of wrist and wishing suddenly that he still had the hair-tie Sokka'd loaned him.

Aang blinked up at him, confused for a moment since he'd been referring to the fact that Appa was trying to lick him at every opportunity he got. But Zuko's words made him grin anyway and he didn't bother pointing out the misunderstanding. He was curious about how things were going with the two older boys anyway, considering how much time they'd been spending together. "I don't think shopping is something you can be GOOD at," he said. "Sokka's idea of being 'good' at shopping is taking forty-five minutes to decide on buying a pair of shoes."

"See, I'd go in, see some shoes I liked, find out they didn't have the right size and then leave," Zuko explained. "If I had to spend that long in a single store..." He laughed. "I'm not that patient, I guess." He paused, considering. "Did he really do that?" Zuko wondered, grinning inexplicably.

"That's what normal people would do!" Aang agreed, as he started the long rinsing process again. "But he has to compare the feel and price and brand value of sixteen pairs of shoes before he can make a decision. Even the girls we know won't shop with him anymore."

No, Zuko couldn't imagine that either Katara or Toph would put up with that. He could just see Toph:  _They all look the same! Just pick!_  or Katara:  _Are you really going to spend that much on a single pair of shoes?_  "I can't believe I'm saying this," Zuko chuckled, "But I think in this one circumstance, Sokka might actually get along with my sister. Wait... no, I take that back. They'd probably murder each other over the same pair of shoes that both of them wanted."

"You have a sister?" Aang perked up with interest. "What's she like?"

"She's a bully," Zuko answered without hesitation. "She's ruthless and ambitious, and probably cares about no one but herself. And somehow she still makes people love her." He shrugged. "We don't exactly get along."

"Oh," Aang blinked with surprise at Zuko's frank assessment of this unknown sibling. "Well that sucks. Don't tell Sokka or Katara... but sometimes I think I'd rather have a dog than a brother or sister. At least a dog listens to you." Appa took that moment to try and stick his huge, wet head down the front of Aang's smock for no good reason. "APPA!"

Zuko laughed aloud, and reached over the tub to take hold of Appa's shoulders, fruitlessly trying to rescue Aang from the beast's great tongue. What happened instead was that Appa turned, suddenly enough to catch Zuko off guard and send him toppling halfway into the tub himself, leaving the back of his head vulnerable to another friendly, if slobbery, lick. At this, Aang was laughing uncontrollably as he struggled to wrench Appa away from the older boy; all three of them were now soaked. Appa meanwhile lost interest and turned his attention to the abandoned spray-nozzle which was stuck on in the corner and started biting lazy swallows of water from the spray.

Bathing Appa was always an adventure, and this was no exception. "He  _really_  likes you!" Aang crowed, the other patrons of the establishment glancing their way with raised brows as they washed their Labrador Retrievers and Jack Russels.

"If I tell him I like him too, do you think he'll give me a break?" Zuko pleaded hopefully as he pushed himself back to his feet and reached for the hose that Appa seemed to be considering the virtues of chewing on. "There really wasn't much point in wearing the smock, huh?" he mourned as he joined in the final rinse.

"You'll have one dry spot, right underneath the smock," Aang provided helpfully. Appa seemed content to sit still for the remainder of his bath, his chin resting on the side of the tub as they freed his coat of the last of the conditioner and loose hair. Finally Aang was wringing and squeezing literally buckets of water from Appa's tail and ears and feet, trying to get as much as possible out before they implemented towels (which the attendant had left a generous stack of for them.) He picked up two towels, and handed one to Zuko, quickly lifting his own as a shield for when Appa shook.

Zuko almost didn't catch on in time, but as realization dawned, he lifted the towel up over his face, just as a wall of splattering water hit. A moment later Zuko peeked out from behind the damp terry cloth. "Is he done?" he wondered, eying the oddly fluffed Saint Bernard.

"Yep, it's usually just one," Aang replied. "Now is the fun part. C'mon, Appa!" The dog lumbered out of the bath and down the steps, still wet but not soaked. Aang slipped a nylon lead from off the wall around his neck and led both of them to another room where a large blow dryer stood. He hooked Appa to a peg on the wall and then dug into his backpack again for a pair of surgical masks and goggles which he shared with Zuko. "It gets pretty messy."

Zuko stared, but took the mask and goggles thankfully. Who knew washing a dog would be so involved? Slipping both over his head, Zuko took position and waited to see what Aang would do.

It was immediately apparent why the extra equipment was needed. Aang turned on the deafening dryer -- which was far more powerful than anything a human would use -- and blew hard, cool air. The moment he turned it on Appa, fur went flying, his winter coat blown free until it was sticking to the walls and gathering in balls in the corners. Aang indicated a second hose attached to the machine. There wasn't much ability to talk over the blare of the dryer, and Appa's occasional bark.

Zuko reached for the attachment and aimed the blasting air toward the slowly drying dog, sending Appa's ears flapping and fur billowing. The dog snapped lazily at the hose once or twice, but didn't seem to like the sensation nearly as much as biting at the water spray, squinting and whining and generally beginning to grow a bit impatient with the whole process.

Luckily with two people, the blow drying went relatively fast and ten minutes or so later, there was an extra dog or two's worth of hair scattered about the drying room. Appa shook himself again and sighed as the machine was turned off and he was led from the room. After a quick brush through, his collar was put back on, and they were bidding farewell to the attendant with apologies for the state of the drying room. "Much better!" Aang said with a laugh and a pat to Appa's now shining coat.

Zuko grinned and mirrored the motion, received a grateful slurp for his trouble. "Maybe we should take the long way back," Zuko suggested, looking down at the clothes that, despite the drying room antics, were still damp and stuck with more dog fur than he'd have preferred. "At least it's still sunny out."

This was answered with another laugh, Aang clearly pleased with this suggestion. "Okay!" he said enthusiastically. Their outer layers were stuffed in his back pack, not really fit to be put on over damp dog hair. "Thanks again for helping me, Zuko," he added with a warm smile. "Now if you ever have to wash another dog, it'll be a cinch!"

Zuko chuckled, taking Appa's lead as the stepped out onto the sidewalk again, the warm afternoon sun pleasant though the drying dog fur itched where it tickled his skin. "If I ever have to wash another dog I'm making you do it!" he insisted, but his words were lighthearted and his mood a good one.

After a bit, their steps took them past a park full of families and high school kids hanging out and trying to look cool even on picnics and taking their turns on swings meant for kids much younger. "I bet you get all the girls when you take this guy out for a walk," Zuko said with a grin, catching a trio of girls watching them as they passed.

"What? Girls?" Aang squeaked, looking around quickly and blushing when he followed Zuko's gaze. He suspected the fact that they were both wet and covered in dog hair might have had more to do with their giggling than anything though. "I-I guess so," he stammered.

"We could stop by Katara's place if you wanted," Zuko suggested innocently, as the bent to scruff Appa behind the ears, pretending to have changed the subject but watching Aang for reaction from the corner of his eye.

Aang's pink blush blossomed into a full blown red. "K-Katara's? Why?" he asked with painfully fake ignorance. "She's seen Appa lots of times!"

"Well," Zuko continued innocently. "It might be good for her to see me helping you out with stuff. You know. Makes me seem more trustworthy, don't you think?"

Wide gray eyes stared up at him, utterly trapped. "W-well yeah but... look at us!" he indicated helplessly. "We smell!"

Zuko pondered this. "We could shower at your place first," he pointed out. "Hey, I'm just trying to help you out here," he added with a grin, when Aang frowned uncomfortably.

"Yeah..." Aang said, kicking at a rock. "Wait! Help me out with what!?"

Zuko blinked, put on his best innocent look. "You know, because she wasn't happy when you first started letting me hang out with you guys."

"Oh. Right. With that." Aang laughed suddenly and loudly and then broke into a run which Appa joined in. "RACE YOU HOME!"

"What! No fair!" Zuko shouted, barely managing to get his feet moving before Appa pulled his arm out of the socket. Still, it was a close call, and he was less running and more being dragged down the street as they headed back toward Aang's house.

By the time they stumbled into the house, they were sweaty and all three were panting. Momo was extremely freaked out by their appearance, and bolted through the house frantically. Aang was laughing, the race results not really important or even remembered as he released Appa and the dog flopped down in the front room for a nap. "If you want, we can wash our clothes and shower and eat lunch before we go," Aang said, stopping by the fridge for some water for both of them.

Zuko nodded as he regained his breath. "You can go first," he offered, taking the water gratefully as he leaned against the door frame. "I'll start the clothes washing if you show me where to do it."

Aang showed him the laundry room and gave him some of Gyatso's clothes to wear while his were washing, and stripped down to his underwear without much thought before running through the house to the shower with Momo chasing after him with a yowl.

Aang's foster dad had  _interesting_  taste in clothing to say the least, Zuko thought as he stared down at the tie-dyed "Enjoy Weed!" shirt Aang had given him to wear. "A real town!" the boy had insisted. Zuko was just glad no one else would ever see him wearing it. Or the red sarong that slung low on his hips.

When Aang returned ten minutes later with fresh clothes and scruffy hair damp, it was very difficult for him not to burst into laughter when he saw Zuko in his guardian's clothes. He could have been nice and found him some pants and a belt. But this was way better. "Shower's all yours," he squeaked.

Zuko fixed him with a suspicious glare, but took Aang's proffered towel and headed toward the bathroom. "Thanks," he called back with wave.

It was tempting to take a much longer shower than he actually did, but when the water began to run lukewarm, Zuko sighed and finished up, stepping out into steamy room and drying quickly before wrapping the towel around his waist and gathering up the borrowed clothes.

"Thanks for these," he said as he left the bathroom, scrubbing a hand through his damp hair, "But I think I'll just wait until my clothes are done in the wash before--"

Sokka blinked from the opposite end of the hall, in front of the washer and dryer where Aang had asked him to switch their laundry. Incidentally, he appeared to be holding Zuko's underwear. "Uh. Hey."

It was with complete and immediate efficiency that Zuko's train of thought derailed entirely, his gaze flitting with some minor degree of panic from the boy standing at the end of the hall, to the garment in his hand. Zuko's free hand snapped suddenly to the towel around his waist with the sudden instinctual caution that told him embarrassing things --like everything else inexplicable in the universe-- probably came in threes. "Um," he answered with remarkable intelligence given the blood flow that was rerouting itself from his brain to his cheeks. "Hi."

Sokka stared at him for a moment longer before he jerked back to life, grabbing the dryer door to fling it open, eyes turning to the task before him, and away from the clearly embarrassed boy. "Sorry -- I was just -- Aang asked me to switch your laundry," he hurried to explain, quickly shoveling wet clothes into the dryer.

"Oh, yeah," Zuko shook himself, and turned back to the open bathroom door, taking a brief moment to compose himself before wading the clothes into a tight ball and flicking the lights off. "Just.. forgot the lights," he explained as he faced the hall again. "Um, is Aang...?" He pointed toward the bedroom door behind Sokka, holding the ball of fabric before him like a shield.

The other boy was busy with a strange mantra in his head, wondering WHY this was awkward. It wasn't like he hadn't seen way more of other boys than this in the locker room. But Zuko's clear embarrassment was infectious and Sokka was intuitive enough not to remove his eyes from the dryer. "He's actually -- he's in the kitchen." Sokka pointed blindly to Zuko's end of the hall which was closer to the front of the house.

"Oh, um. Thanks," Zuko answered, inwardly groaning as he forced his steps not to hurry down the hall. When he'd reached the other side of the house, he poked his head into the kitchen to find Aang, Zuko breathed a sigh of relief. "Hey, Aang. Um. Do you think I could borrow another shirt. Um, just until mine is dry? I got dog hair on this one when I was wearing it before," he explained apologetically, handing the wrinkled garments to the younger boy.

"Oh sure!" Aang said without a second thought, taking the clothes to put in the hamper. He returned a moment later with his own largest shirt -- still a little snug for Zuko's much larger frame, but also considerably more tasteful than anything that Gyatso owned.

Zuko breathed a sigh of relief as he slipped the plain red t-shirt over his bare torso, suddenly feeling significantly less self-conscious, even with only a towel covering his lower half. "Thanks Aang," he managed a grin as he tugged and tucked the towel more firmly in place. "Um, so... Sokka came over?" he wondered aloud, trying not to sound too confused as to why the other boy was there and handling his undergarments.

Aang was about to answer when Sokka appeared, having hidden himself in the bathroom for a few minutes before he decided it would be safe. "I got my car," he explained from the doorway, offering a considerably more comfortable grin.

Zuko turned around, smiling at the news despite his own recent discomfort. "That's great!" he answered, "You drove it over? How is it?" Smoothing his dripping hair back from his still-faintly heated face, Zuko peered toward the front door as though he would be able to see it from where he stood.

Though he'd originally had a plan to be very smooth and cool about his new wheels, when Zuko smiled for his new acquisition like that, Sokka realized after a beat that he was grinning like an idiot and was about to blurt something stupid before Aang interrupted him.

"It's awesome!" Aang said enthusiastically. "It looks really fast!"

Zuko seemed, for a moment, torn between wanting to see for himself and --intelligently-- avoiding wandering outside in a towel. He wished his pants would hurry up and dry already. "Congrats," he said, instead, nodding toward Sokka. "On your first car." Then, "You'd better be taking all of us for rides in it."

"Why do you think I'm over here?" Sokka said with a laugh, before adding, "Thanks. We should grab Katara and Toph and go to the mall after lunch. If-- if you've got time," he added, trying to sound polite.

"It's still early," Zuko reasoned, glancing at the strange sun-dial like clock on the wall before double-checking it to the time on his phone. "Yeah, it's only two."

Things lightened and the weird moment in the hallway was forgotten with a good lunch and clean pants. Sokka's car was shown off -- as it turned out, 'awesome' was perhaps a slight overstatement. It was a good buy for what he'd paid but the car was at least twenty-five years old, and though it'd had a paint job (a dark blue) in at least the last ten, the interior was scuffed and worn. It was a sports car but from the look and sound of it, Sokka's grandmother doubtfully had to worry about him doing any drag racing.

Aang, however, thought it was possibly the best thing ever short of a bird big enough to fly on, and even Zuko was appreciative of the freedom made available by having a vehicle, period. Plus, there was something to be said for the value of older things and Zuko had a secret appreciation for antiques.

It was his turn for shotgun after a brief stop at the gas station and Zuko rolled down the window (with only a little difficulty) to let the wind dry his hair as they sped down the road toward Sokka's house.


	13. Chapter 13

Sokka had owned his car for a mere matter of days, and already he was realizing that it would be both a blessing and a curse. He was delighted to have the freedom to go wherever he wanted and was more than happy to offer rides to his friends when they were requested. The feeling of driving into school instead of walking made his chest puff with manly, adult pride. And then had come Grangran's proclamation that if he was grown up enough to drive all over town, he was grown up enough to run errands with his new car.

There was a great deal of whining that had then followed, none of it ever changing his grandmother's stony expression. He complained over the fact that grocery shopping was most definitely not a job for the man of the house. He protested the fact that that Grangran would only cook with the freshest ingredients and was therefore sending him to the Asian market where live fish could be purchased by the pound. He lamented that his car would forever reek of fish and moaned over having to tolerate the sliminess of picking out the meat. Never minding the fact, of course, that he had gutted fish with his own hands since he was old enough to hold a knife.

In the end, of course, Grangran won and he received a smart chiding from Katara for making a fuss. Grumbling and irritable, he made his way across town on a precious Thursday afternoon in his soon-to-be fishmobile. He'd almost called Zuko to see if he wanted to tag along but decided that it wouldn't be particularly fair to drag the other boy into his gross, annoying chores.

The shopping center was a mishmash of shops that surrounded the large market. There was a stationary store, a book store, and a comic place that sold import DVDs with poor excuses for subtitles. Though the comic store was a bit of a temptation, what really caught Sokka's eye during the brief walk from his parking space to the door of the market was a small store with a window littered with items. A pawn shop. It was a shopper's paradise, really, because one never knew what secret treasures they might come across.

He considered, pausing to study the various items that filled the window display. Watches, jewelry, an old video game system, a wooden leg. Really, how could he resist? It's not as though he was raring to plunge into the smell of live fish and mussels. So with a shifty glance around, he gripped the strap of his messenger bag and sidled in through the open door. Sokka heard the proprietor of the shop before he saw him.

"ONE HUN'RED FIFTY! That's mah final offer, so take it or suck-- Oh!" A squat man with lazy eyes and indeterminate ethnicity stepped out from behind a precarious tower of file boxes, running stubby fingers through a flop of greasy looking hair. "You ain't Mr. Chong!"

Sokka tried not to grimace but there were some definite second thoughts flickering through his head as he cast a glance around. Between the interior of the shop (which was even messier than he expected, and had an unpleasant, wet, musty smell) and the owner of the establishment, this wasn't exactly Sokka's idea of a good shopping experience. "Um. No. I'm not," he managed. "Sorry! Wrong door!" And he hurried to turn around again.

"Hold it, boy!" The strange man called out, stepping gingerly over a pile of various papers and knickknacks -- impossible to tell if they'd spilled or been placed there intentionally. He held out a hand, not to grab, but in a gesture meant to coax Sokka to stay. "You look like a young 'un, fit for tellin' a sweet deal when yah sees one. Hm?"

Sokka’s brows quirked in an expression of confused disbelief as he attempted to decipher the thick accent while he inched away from the man’s filthy gesticulating fingernails. "Well... yes, I suppose I am," he admitted. "I'm just not sure you have any wares I'll be interested in..." He gripped a little tighter at his bag as he scanned the shelves cluttered with every imaginable piece of junk.

"Mm, well might be I's wrong 'bout you..." the man considered, scratching at his stubbly chin. "If yah can't see the treasure in the trash. Here. Come here, boy. Look'n here." He held up a bowl full of dirty looking jewelry, rings and cuff links and pendants of every shape and hinting at shine beneath the grime. "There's a real piece'r two in here. Maybe you can spot 'em? Might be I have a few things more to yer likin' in the back. If'n you ac'shully is a man who can 'ppreciate fine things."

Again Sokka straightened his posture, squaring his shoulders. "I appreciate fine things!" he protested. The merchant had used the 'm' word and now Sokka was on the defensive, as though there was any reason to defend his manliness to this unkempt little man. "Show me what you have."

"Aahhh, well. Hm... you seem like a man who likes his fish. How about this? Gen-u-ine stuffed carp on a cherry slab. Caught by my great great grandpa!"

Sokka's brow set in a stonily unimpressed expression. What did that even mean, a man who likes his fish?! He paused to sniff at the sleeve of his own shirt -- but then snapped out of it and found his voice in an indignant cry. "That's not 'fine' at all!"

"Ahh, we got us a smart one here," the man chuckled, and set the taxidermy fish aside. "Well then, how 'bout this?" He turned abruptly away to dig behind a nearby counter. After a half a minute of grumbling and rummaging, he popped up again with a scarred wooden box. "A 'fine' chess set! Genuine green jade on the one side and smoky quartz on t'other. Only missing the queens!"

"Hmm..." A critical frown jutted Sokka's lower lip out as he eyed the new item. "That's a little better but -- what good is a set without any queens?"

"Well me'n Due play usin' rocks!" Still, the man put the box away, straightened up to tap his jaw in thought. "Now what would a smart kid like you find int'resting an' -fine-... Ah!" After nearly tripping over what appeared to be a tuba case, the shop keeper disappeared behind a column of old records. He reemerged a moment later with an old-looking tome with patterns traced with gold leaf on the leather cover. "Books!" he announced, answering his own question.

At this, Sokka couldn't help but show a little interest, leaning a little closer to the smudged glass counter that separated them. It wasn't a title he recognized and looked very old -- though not in the worst condition. The pages still looked somewhat crisp and though the leather cover was beaten at the corners, the craftsmanship was still apparent. Gingerly, so as not to show too much interest, he opened the book… Only to discover the mutilated insides where the empty silhouette of a pistol had been carved into the pages, effectively destroying its worth. Sokka turned his eyes back up to the shopkeep with lips set in a thin line.

"No, I kin see this in't yer sort of 'qual'ty item' either. Hm..." The man wandered away from the counter then, hands clasped behind his back, eyes trained on the floor. Twice he narrowly avoided walking headlong into stacks of boxes. "Ah-HA!" he stopped short, crowing suddenly. "You must be the kin'na boy who likes  _fightin_ '!"

Sokka opened his mouth to speak, to shoot down another ridiculous attempt to read his preferences and taste from sight. But then he stopped and closed his mouth. And once more. Then he stroked his chin, thoughtfully. "I do have a certain predisposition to weapons," he allowed thoughtfully.

But the man wasn't listening. In fact, he'd already opened the door to the back room where he'd begun to pull out this and that, arranging a number of items an old table. "Here!" he called. "Look here! The finest! Knights' swords, aborgeenal slings, quality oak baseball bat! Much more!"

A little hesitantly (musing that this situation made him think of the opening of a slasher movie) he followed the man deeper into the cluttered building to peer down at the assortment that he'd gathered. A rusty tin sword -- clearly a child's prop -- and a splintered baseball bat with a signature from a player whose name was unfamiliar. There was a boomerang in the mix that caught his attention but on further inspection it was just a plastic replica on further inspection, not even worth hanging on a wall. But then -- he bumped a kite shaped like an eagle and something glinted in the poor lighting. He moved the kite aside and quickly schooled his expression into neutrality at what he found. It was a shape he remembered quite clearly, as he had an excellent memory, from that first trip to the museum with Zuko. When they'd wandered through the weapons exhibit, the other boy had pointed out the swords he was trained to use and the single, wide scabbard that they were tucked in. And here was a finely crafted example of just such a set, though hidden under age and a thin layer of dust. "What's that?" Sokka asked, forcefully feigning disinterest.

"What's what?" the man chirped, looking around as though Sokka had not just pointed to exactly what he meant. "Oh that?" He glanced up, fixed the boy with an expression meant to convey his belief that Sokka was quite clearly loony. "It's a kite shaped after an eagle. Wha's it look like?"

Sokka slapped himself in the forehead before he could think better of it, voice rising to a squawk as he pointed at the scabbard. "Not THAT!  _THAT_!"

"Oh,  _that_! Nothin'. Jus' some rusty old swords. Can't even beat yer brother with em. Snap right in two."

Sokka calmed enough to quirk a brow. "They don't look rusty," he argued and forewent politeness to pick up the scabbard and slide the blades free. They were a little tarnished, but not beyond repair. And they were really beautiful. Characters were carved into the hilts and painted delicately on the scabbard. Sokka could sense that feeling starting to settle in his stomach. That weird, fluttery sort of feeling that he got whenever he thought about Zuko lately. The feeling that made him offer rides home every day and text him in the middle of the night with useless things and make jokes at his own expense just to see the other boy try to hide his grin. "They might be a good kid's toy with some cleaning up," he said, plastering his game face back on. "I'll give you ten bucks for them."

"You like swords, hm?" the man gave a toothy smirk, scratched again at his stubble. "We got this one!" He held up another, shorter blade. "Genuine replica hobbit dagger! Lights up like Christmas when they's orgers aroun'!"

Sokka scowled at him. "Too flashy," he said shortly. "I prefer this... you know... Asian look." He shrugged.

"Ahhh, me too," was his answer, followed by a lecherous smirk and exaggerated wink that left Sokka with the distinct impression that the man was no long talking about swords. "Two hundred."

"Two hundred!?" Sokka choked, knees nearly giving out under him at the sudden jump in price. "You just said they'd snap in two!"

"Well I reckon you aughtn't be playin' with priceless antiques!"

Oh damn, he hadn't played his cards quite close enough and now he scowled faintly. "Priceless antiques?" he scoffed. "Hardly! These carvings were  _clearly_  made with a laser cutting tool. These swords can't be more than ten years old. Probably made in China, too."

"You watch yer mouth, boy. China is a great land. My own pappy was half Eskimo. One twenty-five er get on home and play with yer dollies instead."

Sokka gaped, an eye twitching faintly. He had to wonder if this was some sort of clever technique of haggling or if the man really was just that stupid. "That's highway robbery!" he protested. But even as he argued, he was going over figures in his head. His car hadn't ended up costing as much as expected and he still had the money that he'd saved for Suki's non-existent visit. He'd planned to set aside the money to cover insurance for the car, and for whatever plans ended up being for spring break -- but he could get some extra shifts between now and then to easily make back the difference. He chewed at his lower lip, and glancing at the swords, he took a breath to wonder over this compulsion he felt in that moment. Something just told him that if he were to take these home, clean them up, they'd be gorgeous -- maybe not something to be actively used as a weapon but something that would look nice on Zuko's wall and make him think of Sokka with a fond smile every time he glanced at them... "No way I'm going over twenty-five," he finally shot back.

"I ain't as foolhardy as I look boy. And I bin around the block more times than you've got hair on your toes! Them swords are the real deal! Genuine fancy schmancy kung fu action shay-ung daw double fightin' broadswords, look't here! I ain't gonna sell em to some upstart kid for some twenny-five dollars!"

Sokka groaned inwardly. He, of course, hadn't actually believed that the swords were some cheap kid's toy but he'd really thought he could make the simple-looking shopkeep believe it. "I ain't -- I'M NOT some... Look, I can appreciate fine antiques. You think anybody that would wander in here is ever going to be interested in these dusty old things? You're lucky I'm interested in taking them off your hands! Forty is my final offer."

"Why'dyou want um so bad, anyway?" The man frowned, palms slapping against the table. "So you kin pretend you know how ta fight kung fu like? Maybe no one else'll buy um, but they'll be better off here than stuffed all under some un'preciative hooligan's bed!"

Sokka startled somewhat at this accusation and then he felt himself flush, shoulders stiffen a little. "They--I want them as a gift," he mumbled. "For a friend. I--" He stumbled over his words and somehow, he didn't know how, the following pronoun appeared. "Sh... she likes stuff like this. So I... I thought I'd clean them up and they'd look nice on h... her wall." Sokka scowled, fully aware of how his whole face was red and wondering at just how incredibly stupid he was and what exactly was he thinking and why had he said that!? Why-- because he'd started blushing? Because it would sound stupid if he started talking about a guy friend like that while blushing like a schoolgirl!

For a painfully long moment, there was silence, neither Sokka nor the shop owner spoke. Then, suddenly, the man reached over and gave Sokka a jarring slap on the shoulder. "HA! I getcha, I getcha. It's like  _that_ , is it? Well! Boy! I'm no spring chicken to stand in the way of young romantical things. Seventy-five and the swords are hers."

"Fifty-five," Sokka squeaked.

"Sixty and you can buy 'er some flowers too."

Sokka groaned, only growing a deeper shade of red. He pressed over his eyes with one hand while the other fished in his messenger bag for his wallet.

"Well, I guess yer a smart kid after all."

The man lifted the swords, tucking them under one arm as he waved Sokka toward the front once more. Here he wrapped them in brown paper and string, rung up the purchase on an ancient cash register, and happily took the boy’s money. Sokka received a clap on his shoulder from a dirty hand, was ordered to 'go git 'er' and left the store, wondering exactly what had just happened.

He deposited the swords in his car and went on with the errand that he'd actually come to do. He was in a dazed sort of state as he went about his grocery shopping, too distracted by his own thoughts to even be particularly grossed out by the fish and mussels in tubs, or when the man at the counter hacked off the head of the catfish he'd chosen for his grandmother.

What had come over him!? He hadn't had any intention of buying a gift for Zuko when he'd walked in there. But as soon as his eyes raked over that precious item, he was completely helpless to this... _emotion_ , whatever it was. And in the face of that emotion, the cash he laid down was nothing for the opportunity of the surprised smile it might earn him when the gift was handed over. Whatever sensible judgment he had was completely lost when that churning started in his stomach.

 _Romanitcal_ , he scoffed. Couldn't a guy just do a nice thing for a friend? Of course, it had been Sokka himself who had balked ridiculously and thrown out that stupid pronoun. Ugh. So stupid.

In spite of his ongoing, inward sense of humiliation, when dinner was finished and all the dishes done, he escaped to his room where the package was waiting for him. It took the better part of an hour to clean the antique swords, removing the dust from the etchings with a q-tip and bringing luster to the wooden scabbard with an oily polish. He rubbed at the blades until the tarnish gave way and the dull gleam surfaced. When the task was finally complete, he couldn't help but grin to himself as he admired the three pieces laid out on his bed. They looked thirty years younger, as though they could be taken into battle that very evening though their aged fragility was clear when on picked up the blades.

He caught himself simpering when he thought again about how Zuko might look at him when he handed the gift over along with his most winning, confident smile.

What was he thinking!? If he gave these to Zuko, it was going to look like he was trying to  **say**  something. Which he wasn't. Was he? No. Probably. Sokka tangled fingers into his hair with an aggravated noise.

He sighed as he sheathed the twin blades and smoothed the gleaming black wood one last time. Then he found a clean corner of his closet where he gingerly placed the set, for safe-keeping. He had to figure this out. And until he did, he couldn't risk actually giving the gift to Zuko. The last thing he needed was for the other boy to get the wrong idea. Or worse, get the right one.


	14. Chapter 14

The spring was promising to be a warm and pleasant one, but it still required a few days of gray drizzle which weren't particularly conducive to working on the patio. So on this particular afternoon, with Iroh out doing errands, giving Zuko and Sokka the place to themselves, Sokka had stopped by his house to pick up his Playstation which was easily hooked up in Iroh's living room. With the light rain pattering on the window, it was quite cozy inside as they beat the living (or rather unliving, since it was a video game) hell out of each other on the TV screen.

Things had been surprisingly comfortable since the run in with Jet. Sokka thought maybe having someone that knew, that he could trust, maybe that made it easier on Zuko. And though Zuko may have been concerned about Sokka being displeased with the revelation, if anything they were spending even more time together and Sokka caught himself being more and more physically affectionate. But that was only natural, right? It had been so long since Sokka had had a 'best friend', he must have forgotten how these things went. He had been raised in a very physically affectionate home and he knew that he didn't have some of the hyper-masculine hang-ups that might keep some guys from being friends with someone like Zuko.

In spite of all this analyzing, there was still the gift that was now safely tucked in Sokka's closet while he sorted himself out. It should have been a time of introspection, but instead he found questions for Zuko appearing on his tongue. Usually they were quickly shoved back and filed away for when it might be okay to ask them. And then suddenly there they were, nagging him, and all they were doing was playing video games so it seemed innocent enough... "Hey, can I ask you something weird?"

Zuko blinked, missed a block and frowned as his fighter was tossed across the screen. He was, in general, better at video games than Sokka, but it seemed that Sokka was at least a little better at multitasking than he. He paused the game and pulled up the combo menu, scrolling through the list of moves without really reading them when he answered. "Yeah? What is it?"

"It's uh -- about Jet. Well, kind of. What I mean is -- you said you had a girlfriend at your old school, too. So was that like... totally different? Did it feel really different? Like -- emotionally," he hastened to add, flushing a little as he belatedly realized what that sounded like.

Thumb paused on the controller, Zuko turned his head to glance at Sokka, and then back to the screen when he found the other boy trying to casually avoid his gaze. "Um..." he began, scratched lightly at the back of his head. "I guess it was pretty different, but... I dunno, they were such different personalities..."

"Right. Of course. Every person is different." He wanted to smack himself in the head. He didn't know what questions to ask to get the answers he was interested in. "Was -- um -- was Jet the first guy you were interested in?" he continued, trying his best to sound like this was just a normal conversation, like they were talking about the weather.

Zuko shrugged. "I guess it was more like he was the first guy who was interested in me." He didn't seem surprised or disturbed by Sokka's questions. Rather, it was almost as though he was expecting them. People wanted to know more about the things they didn't understand. It was natural human curiosity. And, strangely enough, he found he didn't really mind. "I guess... I mean there's something flattering about, you know, someone liking you enough to actively pursue you. Even if it was weird at first." He shrugged again.

"Oh.” His eyes were still glued on the screen in front of them and his focus seemed unwavering. "So, is that mostly what it was? I mean... would you go for... I mean, was it just Jet or do you actually like... you know, guys?"

Zuko stole a curious glance at the other boy, and exited the move screen, returning them to the game he'd already almost lost. "Before Jet, I hadn't really thought about it. It isn't something my father would approve of, you know." He shrugged, button-mashed his way back to the upper hand, then promptly lost the match to Sokka's uncanny skill at special moves. "But I guess, if the right guy came along... I mean, I'm not like... rushing out to find a new girlfriend or anything. What about you?"

This seemed to effectively break Sokka's concentration and tore his eyes from the screen, suddenly wide like a deer in the headlights. "What? I'm not --" he rushed to amend. "I mean -- I was just --" He paused, took a shallow breath, looked back at the screen and realized  _what_  Zuko was asking. "I don't have my eye on any girls." He shrugged awkwardly. "I think I need a break. It all seems like a lot of work right now."

Zuko nodded, and took the opportunity to massacre Sokka's fighter before hitting pause again. "Yeah," he agreed with a nod. "That's how it goes, I guess. And guys can be just as much work. In fact, I think Mai may have been lower maintenance than Jet..." He huffed a quiet laugh.

Sokka fidgeted -- the game was a welcome distraction and without it he wasn't sure where to look. "H-how did you know?" he asked, looking at Zuko from the corner of his eye. "I mean, was it just like... he came on to you and you were like 'sure I'll give it a try'? Or did you know before he showed that he liked you?"

"I guess I didn't really know. I mean... " Zuko considered this, letting Sokka pummel his guy for a few brief seconds. "He was just trying to get me to join his gang at first. We got ourselves into trouble a lot," he added, almost fondly. "And then... " He shrugged. "I dunno. Stuff just kinda changed."

"Oh," Sokka said again, feeling painfully inarticulate. The tone in Zuko's voice, he noticed, made him want to pout. For all of his questions and curiosity surrounding the subject, he found that the idea of Zuko actually being involved with Jet rankled him deeply. He could get behind the subject if it was 'man, that Jet, what a jerk he is, why did I see anything in him?' but he found that the way that he spoke just now made Sokka's stomach twist a little in something that he had to admit to himself could only be jealousy. It made Sokka realize that even though he was getting closer to Zuko, he was never going to be as cool as Jet. After a very long silence, Sokka suddenly stood up, and the controller fell to the floor. "Let's go do something."

Zuko stared up at him briefly, then set aside his controller and stood as well, making no comment about Sokka's abrupt change of subject. "Okay," he said instead. "What do you want to do? I've still got like... almost four hours before my curfew."

That was a very reasonable question to which Sokka did not have an answer. He just had a feeling that whatever Jet had done to make Zuko like him  **that much** , it probably wasn't lazing around playing video games. Jet was a very active guy. Even if in his case 'active' probably meant robbery, loitering and graffiti. Sokka must have been extremely boring compared to -- WHY DID HE CARE SO MUCH ABOUT WHAT ZUKO THOUGHT OF JET? Sokka realized he was staring at the television with an intensity as though he were about to put a fist through the screen. "Let's go bowling." He didn't remember telling his mouth to  _say_  those words but it was definitely his voice that he heard.

"Um, okay." Zuko shrugged and stretched. He didn't understand Sokka's sudden need to go bowling, but he didn't have any real protest either. "Do you know if there's an alley near here?"

WHY had he said that? Sokka had to wonder. He hadn't bowled in years and last time he had, he wasn't even  _good_  at it. Furthermore, bowling wasn't something that even resembled 'cool.' Setting himself up to look like an idiot, brilliant plan, really... but he couldn't exactly go back on it now. "Er... yeah," he finally said, reaching for his jacket. "There's one over by the elementary school."

Sokka kind of wanted to beat his head repeatedly into the side of the house as Zuko used the key his uncle had given him to lock the front door. The drizzle was steady as they got into the car. "I hope it's not like... weird or rude for me to ask those kinds of questions," the younger boy said quietly, the road giving him something new to focus on.

Zuko shrugged, surprising even himself a little. "I guess I don't really mind," he said, sliding down into a half slouch and stretching his legs under the dash. "I understand why you'd be curious, anyway."

It took some skill not to release the sigh of relief that threatened from Sokka's chest. He was afraid that Zuko would read deeply into his questions and maybe be really offended by them. He cleared his throat, pausing as he knocked the windshield wipers up a notch. Just one more question. Then he'd stop. "So... last one, I promise... but... why Jet? I mean, even if Jet were a hot girl, I'm not sure it'd hide what a sleaze he is... What did you see in him?" It was the question that had nagged him from the moment he'd been made privy to the secret. Why HIM?

Zuko seemed to take his time considering this. He rubbed idly at his knee and watched the rain hit the windshield for long enough to somewhat order his thoughts. "I guess... I guess it was the way that -- at first, anyway ­--- he treated me like an equal, like... he saw something in me that he saw in himself, too? And he took me into his group like it was no big deal. I was really... messed up then, but I felt comfortable around him. I mean..." Zuko ran his fingers through his hair, trying to find the best way to explain. "He was always a trouble-maker, I guess, but he really, genuinely cared about his friends. He used to be... a better guy."

Silently, Sokka added to the explanation in his own head that Jet was also a master of manipulation and an expert at making people like him and see him as some sort of philanthropic gentleman. Even Sokka had fallen prey to that when he had tried originally to step in on the subject of his sister. "I guess I can understand that," Sokka said at length. "He's pretty good-looking, too."

Sokka's casual comment inspired a brief and half-disguised cough of laughter from his passenger and Zuko couldn't help but turn a raised brow toward him. "Oh, yeah? You think so, hmm? So you like that tousled, just-got-out-of-bed look, huh?"

The other boy shrugged, seeming not to notice that he was being teased. "Well, not so much that but I mean -- he's tall, athletic... if he wasn't busy smoking all the time, he'd probably be really good at sports. And he's got a handsome enough face. I don't know about those eyebrows though."

Zuko chuckled, leaning into the door so he could face Sokka more easily. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were softening me up to ask  _my_  permission to ask  _him_  out. Unless you always spend time considering all the most attractive features of your male friends."

"What?" Sokka startled, glancing at Zuko briefly before flushing, silently cursing himself. "No! I mean, not CONSIDERING-- I just-- ugh! Why is it that a person can't just notice people?! It's like -- if I look at a piece of art and I say 'That is a really nice piece of art. It's really beautiful' it doesn't mean I want to SCREW the painting! I get shit for this all the time -- like when we first met you and Toph asked and I said you were good-looking, she wouldn't get off my case about it for a week!"

"You think  _I'm_  good-looking?" Zuko echoed, a little surprised. He remembered Aang saying something to that effect some time ago, but he'd mostly assumed that the younger boy was simply taking something out of context as usual. After all, Zuko had been called many things, but good-looking wasn't an adjective all that often applied to him. Of course, most people seemed to have trouble looking past the scar, but Zuko hadn't caught Sokka looking at it for weeks.

So. Unbelievably. Stupid. Sokka wanted to shrink into the scratched leather seat and disappear. But he couldn't falter -- being embarrassed about it would undermine his opinion that it was perfectly natural to notice if another guy was attractive. "Yeah, so?" he said with a shrug, managing to keep his voice pretty macho. It didn't even crack. His eyes were glued on the road as he continued. "You have smooth skin and good features -- and you have very striking eyes," he assessed, making sure to use the same frankly appraising tone that he'd spoken about Jet with. He decided to leave out the part about the cute pout that was part of Zuko's lips or that sometimes when he made the right face, he was more 'beautiful' than 'good-looking'.

A faint smirk found it's way to Zuko's lips and maybe, if Sokka had not been steadfastly avoiding actually looking anywhere but the road, he might have seen the light bloom of pink at Zuko's cheeks. "I'd, you know, return the compliment, but straight guys aren't usually comfortable hearing about their assets from men who might find those things attractive."

Sokka blinked several times out at the road, hands gripping tightly at the wheel. He had no idea what to say. And all his brain process and willpower was dedicated toward not blushing and not letting his curiosity pull the rug out from under his dignity. After a long moment the best he could come up with was, "R-right." And then, thank god, he was pulling into the parking lot of the bowling alley.

For his part, Zuko seemed hardly to notice Sokka's discomfort, stepping from the car when they'd come to a stop and laughing as he ran for the shelter of the entrance while Sokka struggled with the door lock. Nevertheless, both of them were fairly soaked by the time they stepped into the bowling alley. This earned them a frown from the lady behind the counter which Zuko promptly ignored as he strode up and passed her the cash for both his and Sokka's shoes.

"Pick a lane," he offered, plopping the shoes into Sokka's hands.

It was a rainy Tuesday afternoon so the bowling alley wasn't exactly the Place To Be. In fact, a quick glance down the length of the long building revealed that the only people there seemed to be a few scattered patrons who took the game a bit too seriously, geared up with wrist braces and somewhat less-ridiculous-looking shoes. It meant that they were able to pick a lane at the far end of the building and had a strange sense of privacy in spite of the scattered crashes of pins colliding.

"I haven't done this in, like, six years," Sokka confided as he flopped down and wrenched off his damp shoes.

Zuko followed suit, kicking off his own and stepping into the bi-colored shoes that smelled faintly of mothballs. "Don't worry," he answered, knotting the laces and then sitting up to admire his newly shod feet. "You really can't be any worse than me."

And he meant it. After two gutter balls in a row, the feat of actually knocking a single pin over was highly celebrated by the taller of the pair.

By the time their third frame came around, it was just embarrassing. Zuko was leading with a whole four points and Sokka sat at the console, grimacing up at the monitor hanging from the ceiling above them that proudly displayed their shared patheticness.

"I forgot something about bowling," Sokka said as Zuko returned from the lane where all ten pins were still goggling at them. "Which is that it sucks."

"You know what this means, right?" Zuko replied, turning to pick up the bright red ball he'd chosen as his. "Screw the rules. Let's make it fun." And then, without further warning, he approached the lane, turned around, and slung the ball through his legs. And knocked three pins down. "See?" he grinned.

Sokka couldn't help but burst out laughing as he watched not the ball but rather, Zuko who watched his ball from the view between his legs. "That's your best so far!" Sokka snickered, picking up his own ball which was swirled with blue and white. "Just show 'em your ass and the pins start falling left and right! Okay, my turn."

He walked up to the lane, placed his ball down in front of it and then maneuvered a kick with the heel of his foot to send the ball very, very slowly down the lane. It looked as though he was going to actually have a good hit but then at the last minute, the ball veered into the gutter. "You bastard!" Sokka shook his fist as the machines picked up his pins to sweep uselessly beneath them.

"I guess the pins prefer my ass to your kick," Zuko smirked, watching from his seat. "Maybe if you tried talking nicely to them, you'd score a few points."

"Maybe if you weren't such a smartass, I wouldn't do this!" Sokka retorted, throwing an arm around Zuko's neck to then rub his knuckles mercilessly into the other other boy's hair.

"Ah, cheater!" Zuko cried out, then proceeded to poke an elbow into the soft part of Sokka's side. He could easily have dropped him with a kick or a hold, and both of them knew it, but Zuko only squirmed away and went to pick up Sokka's ball and hand it back. "Try my technique," he suggested, just a little flushed from their tousle. "Maybe it'll work for you, too."

Sokka was laughing as he took the ball but he gave in, earning a few raised brows from the other end of the lanes when he bent over and rolled the ball between his feet. But amazingly, he took out five pins and he was laughing again when he returned to their nook of seats.

"That's not bowling, boys." The woman's voice who had given them their shoes came over the PA. "Play by the rules."

"Bowling fascists!" Sokka called back.

Zuko snickered as he sent his ball down the lane after an elaborate spin and a step that looked almost accidental. "Oops!" he called out, clearly for the benefit of the sour-faced employee, "I just slipped!" Four pins went down and he let out a whoop. It didn't even matter that his next toss was a gutter ball, when it left his hand and bounced twice, heavily enough to crack the floor's lacquer. "Sorry about that!" he shouted. "It just slipped right out of my hand!"

Sokka was snorting with laughter when Zuko strolled back innocently. "Hang on, hang on!" he said, jumping to his feet. He hurried to search through the racks of balls until he found a normal sized one which was extremely light. Then with it in one hand, he grabbed Zuko with the other and dragged him up to the lane. He didn't have to guide too much for the other boy to get the idea and with each of them using a hand on the ball, he counted to three and they launched it down the lane together. With their combined force, the light ball screamed down the lane and crashed into the pins with an echoing force.

They stood there, staring at their combined strike as the pin machine swept it away. "How do we even score that?!" Sokka suddenly crowed, giving Zuko a playful shove.

The taller boy rocked with the push and shoved back, shaking his head with mirth and disbelief. "I can't believe that worked," he snorted. "Screw keeping score, we should go on the road! Disguise ourselves as conjoined twins and win bowling tournaments!"

If their display of bowling 'skills' wasn't enough to get the attention of the entire alley, Sokka's ruckus laughter was. They earned glares from the serious bowlers scattered across the lanes. But it was the death-glare from the woman at the other end of the building behind the counter that caught Sokka's eye. The gate to her counter swung open ominously and Sokka cocked a brow.

"Let's go!" he hissed, still snickering to Zuko as he kicked off his bowling shoes and grabbed his own. "She's a harpy and she's gonna peck our eyes out!" His sneakers in hand, he jaunted up the steps for the side exit that was near their lane while the old woman shouted for him to sit his fanny down which only earned laughter.

Zuko hopped after him, one shoe half on and the other in his hand as they hurried toward the exit. "Oh shit, she's catching up!" he called, abandoning his attempt to get his shoes back on and rushing past Sokka to get the door open. "Come on, come on!"

Seconds later, they burst out into the open air, soaked to the skin in moments and socks waterlogged as they raced back to Sokka's car, flushed and laughing, just as the old woman stuck her head out and shook a wrinkled fist at them.

Sokka tossed his shoes in the back seat, socks squishing as he hit the gas and splashed through the deep puddles that filled the gutters. He shook his dripping hair out of his face, trying to stop laughing enough that he could turn on the defroster since their hot panting breaths and laughs were fogging up the windows instantly. "Oh my god," Sokka breathed, grin splitting his features widely. "That was hilarious. I didn't think someone that old could move that fast!"

"She must get a lot of practice chasing out hooligans like us," Zuko agreed, his grin just as wide as Sokka's as he attempted to squeeze the water from his dripping hair. "Wow, it's raining  _hard_." He flipped open the vents in an attempt to help Sokka defrost the windows.

A few blocks down, Sokka swung into a drive-through and parked in the corner of the lot. He wrung out his socks and tossed them over the back of his seat. Then he was rubbing his hands somewhat dry on his pants before flopping back, tossing his feet up on the dashboard. The fries he'd got for them to share were more about warmth than hunger, but the milkshakes were just indulgence. They could have gone inside to warm up, but their socks were soaked. And in the car they could feel the heavy drum of the rain on the roof that made it shiver just faintly.

"Let's never go bowling again," Sokka said, offering Zuko a smirk.

"But our hopes, our dreams! The championship!" Zuko protested with mock dismay, reaching for a fry or two and doing his best to look terribly disappointed. "Besides," he continued with a smirk, "I think that lady secretly liked you. What if you never go back and miss your chance for love?"

Sokka grimaced for a moment but then was quick to shoot back, "Oh, that's nothing compared to the bedroom eyes that one guy was giving you. The one with the wrist brace and the short shorts? He definitely thought you were cute. He had garter belts for his socks. Now  _that's_  sexy."

"Wow," Zuko replied without batting an eye. "If that's what you call 'sexy', then I might need to rethink being flattered that you called me good-looking."

"OH MY GOD, it was sarcasm, shut up!" Sokka was all but shrieking and then a wet, cold, bare foot was on the side of Zuko's face, pushing him into the opposite door.

Zuko's howl echoed Sokka's own when that foot touched his skin and he was instantly sliding down in his seat, turning to grab for Sokka's ankle and sweep his own damp foot across the center console and under the edge of Sokka's shirt, sighing happily when he made contact with warm skin.

"A-aah so cold!" Sokka squeaked, trying to squirm away as goosebumps rose down his arms from where Zuko's freezing toes brushed his stomach. He only succeeded in hitting the horn with his elbow and startling the hell out of both of them. "Jesus Christ, you're cruel," he complained as they settled again with Zuko's leg between his own and a foot still under his shirt. But Sokka didn't writhe anymore even though it made him shiver. Instead he sighed and wrapped his hands around Zuko's foot through the layers of his clothes, rubbing faintly but not intending to tickle. Then he curled forward, cupping his hands so that when he breathed into them, the heat of his breath soaked into the fabric and reached Zuko's chilled skin.

"Mm, you are way too nice," Zuko hummed, slouching so that his head rested against the window, his foot creeping higher to offer Sokka better reach and to seek out further heat. "I'm usually really warm," he went on to say, "but I guess running barefoot through the rain makes even my feet cold."

Sokka didn't say anything for a long moment, just rubbed faintly at Zuko's foot under the fabric, breathing slowly into the shelter of his hands. It was pretty weird, he thought to himself, but he was strangely comfortable even though he was shivering and wet. His eyes wandered up, looking past his own knees at the other boy who was slouching in the corner of his car, temple rested against the back of the seat with damp, dark hair clinging to cheeks flushed with cold and skin still peppered with raindrops.

For a moment, Sokka just looked at him silently. And then he felt his stomach drop out and he suddenly moved, needing to get Zuko's bare skin away from his even if it was just a foot. As though his friend would be able to feel the way his belly had heated just then and would sense the inexplicable surge of embarrassment that shot through him. He didn't shove Zuko away but he did rearrange so that his legs were  _over_  Sokka's, rather than between them, and he reached back to fish for a dry discarded sweatshirt from the backseat to put over Zuko's bare feet which both settled in his lap.

"I really love the rain," Sokka finally said, looking out at it as an excuse not to look at Zuko. "I mean, inconvenience and floods and stuff aside."

Zuko nodded quietly, not seeming to mind or even much notice the shifting of positions. The sweater around his feet held in the heat that his own body had finally begun to generate again. "To be honest..." he began, lifting a hand to brush at the damp strands still sticking to his forehead. "I didn't much like it before." He glanced across the car at Sokka, a half-smile touching his flushed lips. "Today might just have changed my mind, though."

Sokka couldn't help but return that smile, though his came out much less coy and much more stupid-looking than Zuko's . "We could be home, dry and warm playing video games right now," Sokka pointed out, sounding rather apologetic.

"We could be, yeah," Zuko agreed. "And that would've been fun too. But hey, this way we both got to meet the loves of our lives," he teased.

"So this is gonna be like an anniversary, huh?" Sokka snickered back.

"But we've sworn never to go bowling again," Zuko pointed out. "How will we celebrate this anniversary next year?"

"A visit to the old folk's home? For a romantic candlelit applesauce dinner?"

"I hope you aren't planning on cheating on your blushing bowling bride," Zuko chastised, aghast. "No matter how attractive the ladies at the old folks home might be, I would be forced to call you a big jerk if you gave in to that temptation and b-broke her heart." He  _almost_  managed to make it through the whole speech without crumbling, but had to lift a hand to his mouth at the end and disguise the desire to burst into laughter with a choked sob of sympathy for 'Betty' or whatever her name had been.

Sokka palmed his face, barely managing to keep his laughter to quiet snickering. "I don't even know what to say to that," he groaned, sinking back into his seat. He paused to reach and dig into the bag of fries in Zuko's lap, chewing thoughtfully. "What do the kids from your old school do for fun?" he asked suddenly. He couldn't imagine the snooty uniformed rich kids from Hakan acting out in a bowling alley.

Zuko considered this while he chewed, then finally spoke. "Mostly extracurricular activities that look good on college apps, I guess." He shrugged. "Shopping too, and terrorizing the underclassmen... I used to spend basically all my time practicing Kung Fu and Chen style Tai Chi."

"Oh," Sokka seemed to consider this with a sort of reproachfulness. "I guess that's not so bad." Zuko's feet in his lap were kind of distracting him. He could feel the warm gathering there as the temperature in the car evened out. The windows were heavily fogged without the defroster to prevent it. A moment later, his milkshake slurped when he reached the bottom so he set it aside and put his hands under the sweater nonchalantly. "You said you'd teach me that sometime," he said to Zuko, remembering their first day together at the museum.

Zuko glanced across the space between them, a hint of surprise on his features. "Yeah, I did say that," he remembered. "You really do want to learn? I kind of thought you were just humoring me or something." He searched Sokka's face as he sipped at his own milkshake, still almost half full -- no one ate as fast as Sokka. He didn't seem to mind when Sokka's hands slipped under the sweater, palms finding the warming skin of his ankles.

Sokka was surprised to find Zuko's skin as warm as it was -- he wasn't kidding about that. Idly, trying not to really think about it, he let a hand slide under Zuko's pant leg, warming his own fingers against the other boy's calf. "No," he answered with a shake of his head. "That'd be cool... I mean, who wouldn't want to learn sword fighting?"

"Definitely," Zuko agreed, amusement in his eyes as he passed the last of the fries to Sokka and stretched back, the muscles of his legs flexing under Sokka's cool hands. He shrugged, smiling. "Okay then. If you want, we can start messing around a little in the afternoons before we tackle Uncle's patio. I should have an extra pair of practice swords somewhere..."

The tanned boy just grinned at him in a completely unguarded way, not really paying attention to the cooling fries. He wondered in that moment exactly why he had been spending the last year on the computer every afternoon. It was hard to imagine now that he was sitting here, cold and wet and happier than he'd been in some time.

"Sound good?" Zuko asked, catching that smile and returning it with a poke of his toe in Sokka's stomach.

"Oh -- yeah," Sokka returned, shaking himself out of his reverie. "Hey -- also --" He let his head fall back, and shook his loose, damp hair out of his eyes. "Let's do what you said on spring break. Go to the city."

"Yeah?" Zuko answered, thinking it over. "You know, if Uncle went with us and I said it was for school... I just might be able to make that work." He caught Sokka's eyes with a questioning gaze and a little smile. "You really wanna do it?"

Sokka nodded. "Yeah. I mean -- if you can. If not, no big deal." He shrugged, his expression an exaggerated version of this sentiment. "I know things can be... weird or whatever with your dad. We can just hang out in town too."

Zuko laughed quietly, rubbed at his drying hair. His father was sort of the last person he wanted to think about just then, and there was time still to make plans. "We just made sucking at bowling fun," he pointed out. "I'm sure we can come up with something to entertain ourselves either way."

"Right," Sokka agreed, nodding again. He felt the unvoiced sentiment in himself though -- he didn't really care what they did. He just wanted to be able to spend some of that free time with Zuko. As soon as he acknowledged the feeling though, he realized it was silly -- there was no reason that he wouldn't, so why feel so pointedly about it? "Maybe we should go home and dry off," Sokka said suddenly before his brain could spiral out. It occurred to him that Zuko's dad might not be pleased at him coming home a wet mess.

Zuko glanced down at the wet that was still his shirt and jeans and then looked at his watch. Just after six. Enough time to go back to Iroh's, toss his clothes in the dryer, and be back home by curfew. He nodded. "Sounds good," he agreed, drawing his feet back to the passenger side of the car with just a little reluctance. "Thanks for looking out for me," he added, his tone teasing, but his eyes sincere.

"Pfft, whatever, I just didn't want your stinky wet feet smelling up my car," Sokka said loftily as he turned the engine over.

"Oh, MY stinky feet, huh?" Zuko shot back. "Hey Mr. Pot, I've got a kettle to introduce you to." He rolled the window down as they began to drive, sending a spray of rain into his face and lap. "Whew! Gotta get some air in here," he laughed. "Too many wet socks!"

"Hey, watch the leather!" Sokka whined, snickering when Zuko rolled his eyes.

There was enough time when they got back for one more round of game fighting which ended in playful punching that didn't involve the controllers and Sokka was only a little disappointed when Iroh got home just in time to give Zuko a ride. As he drove home, he thought that he couldn't really think of a better way to spend a rainy afternoon.

 


	15. Chapter 15

That evening, the drizzle had turned into a steady thrum of rain, the night cool and pleasant enough to leave a window open so that the sound of rain filtered in to mix with the music coming from Sokka's computer speakers. Dinner was settling in his stomach, and he laid out in a lazy sort of daze on his bed. No homework to worry about. Just left with the fresh memories of his blissful afternoon. In spite of being soaked, more or less being kicked out of a bowling alley and generally making a fool of himself, it had been wonderful. Not for the first time since he got home, he caught himself simpering as he thought about Zuko's feet propped so comfortably in his lap and the warmth his cold fingers found when they dipped beneath the other boy's clothes.

Abruptly, he sighed and flopped over, pressing his face into his pillow to muffle an aggravated noise. He kept trying to keep his thoughts from wandering in that direction but the tracks had only been further laid during his brief conversation with Zuko about Jet. The surge of hot jealousy that settled in the pit of his stomach when Zuko's voice turned so fond when talking about the jerk. And furthermore, the realization that he wanted Zuko to sound like that when he talked about  _Sokka_  -- but better since he knew he could give Zuko way better memories than Jet had. Probably. Maybe.

It was all flooding through him and he found that even alone, wrestling with his own thoughts, he was embarrassed. He'd never thought about this sort of thing, never weighed the possibility of having a crush on a  _guy_. And maybe, he had to consider, if he hadn't been aware that Zuko had the potential to be attracted to him -- maybe then the thought never would have crossed his mind. The truth was, though, that the only people he'd ever got as close to as he now was to Zuko had been girls and those had naturally progressed into a relationship, into romance. He had male friends, obviously, but none of them had stepped into the same circle that Yue and Suki -- and now, maybe, Zuko -- had. And comparing Zuko to the other two only reinforced this concept in his mind -- he made as much of a fool of himself in front of Zuko as he had with them, tripped over himself, couldn't stop thinking about him... tried to spend every possible moment with him.

What he did know was that when they shared proximity, it made his pulse flutter and disappointment sink in his stomach when a fleeting touch ended. He couldn't quite lie to himself that the feeling was anything short of attraction.

For all of his teenage life, Sokka had been forced to deal with being teased for being 'gay'. He'd always taken it in stride since the mocking had no real basis. His interests in fashion and shopping, his low tolerance for things that were gross, and occasional frank appraisal of a good-looking guy that girls might gossip about made him a prime target for stupid rumors. Maybe it was due to this fact and history that he found his stomach didn't turn at the idea that he might be attracted to a guy. He had no concern that he was  _gay_  (he liked girls way too much for that) but somehow the idea wasn't a terrifying, horrifying or somehow even that  _surprising_  a concept. He'd also grown up in a very open-minded, loving family and though he wasn't about to run downstairs and announce to his sister and grandmother that he was starting to wonder if he was bisexual, he also wasn't crippled by fear that his family would reject him if he did make such an announcement.

No, accepting the idea wasn't the hardest thing -- it was the second guessing. It was the hyper-logical side of his brain that argued endlessly with the sixteen-year-old boy part of his brain and tended to batter his thoughts to a pulp. What bothered him was how to  _know_. He was afraid that after not having a male 'best friend' since elementary school days, he was misinterpreting what he was feeling. Maybe this was just what having a male friend was like and he was over-reacting, projecting even, after learning about Zuko's history with Jet.

Or, his sixteen-year-old boy brain argued, the fact that you want to put your arm around him every time you sit down might mean something less dry and clinical.

The question it came down to: Was he experiencing friendship or attraction? Attraction was sexual. Therefore, did he want to have sex with Zu--

Oh jeeze, he couldn't handle that question yet. He shoved his face deeper into his pillow.

A similar, different, relevant question: Did he experience sexual attraction for men?

He wasn't sure. He hadn't given it enough thought. He knew he was attracted to girls, in fact fell perhaps a little too easily for girls. He'd spent his fair share of teenage-boy-time looking at things on the internet that were absolutely not intended for his teenage-boy-eyes involving girls. He knew that he could  _appreciate_  a good-looking man at the very least, even had to admit that he had checked guys out before. But was it, as he had many times defended, a dry appreciation of aesthetic or was he genuinely attracted to men?

Sokka sat up suddenly, realizing that there might, in fact, be an easy enough way to explore this possibility. He knew for certain his attraction to girls and this was reinforced through practice both in life and through his secret perusings on the internet. Maybe that was a good way to start -- there had to be plenty of the same material involving guys on the web and if it affected him the same way, he'd have a new level of insight. He knew that there was a specific section of an image board that he frequented that was dedicated to such material.

He was, however, rather confused when he started his browser and went to said section of said site to find that he was only half-correct in his understanding. What he found on the site was in fact... gay but not exactly what he'd been expecting. He found himself scrolling, confused, through pages of drawings of male characters from popular Japanese cartoons (and a few American ones and also video games) in various states of undress and compromising positions, with or without other male characters. From an artistic eye, some of the images were well drawn, others he was confident that he would have easily been able to improve upon. In any case, he didn't find any of the material particularly interesting let alone arousing and a fair share of it was downright disturbing. Not to mention that there was so much arguing on the board that it was distracting from the images themselves. Whether or not he was actually attracted to guys, he quickly decided, was not going to be determined by his interest (or lack there of) in waify, drippy-wet renditions of made-up boys with unsettling proportions and sparkles in their eyes.

A faint scowl was directed at the screen, running his eyes over the list of boards to the left. Nothing else on the site was relevant, and he wasn't about to go looking for material outside of the site -- he was too smart with computers than to go searching for free porn on the internet. But, he considered, though the frequenters of this particular board might not be posting the content that he was looking for, it was entirely possible that they might know where to find it. There was no particular reason not to ask. No one knew who he was there, there would be no name attached and no way to track him down. That was the power of being anonymous. So he posted, "i think i might like guys, any recommended web sites? pic not related."

He knew the image board well enough that he wasn't surprised by the internet hostility that answered the post. The first response was, "this isn't your lj, faggot" followed by "cocks or gtfo". Before the post was shot down by the mods though, one surprisingly kind user stepped forward and directed him to another image board site with a section dedicated to exactly what he was looking for. On the new site, in the section dedicated to gay men, he was rather startled to scroll immediately onto several extreme close-ups of penises which inspired him to make sure that his door was very firmly shut.

The new board was much more palatable than the cartoon boys, although it had its own disturbing pit falls. Lots of close up web-cam shots below the belt, requesting ratings of the pictured private parts. He also noted that there was a few posters in similar situations, giving their life stories and requesting advice. They were met with much friendlier words than the first board but Sokka didn't bother reading through the long, boring threads. He was confident that he could figure things out for himself.

As he browsed through pages of burly, butch men posing sexily, doubt started to settle in him. Sure, they were good looking and well-hung and stacked. But they weren't  _attractive_ and other than the flighty nervousness that was experienced by sneaking around on the internet looking for porn, the images didn't inspire much feeling other than that secret sense of dirtiness. Some of the more explicit pictures made him squirm a little, half the time out of discomfort or fascinated confusion about what was actually _happening_  in the image. As he browsed though, he did come across a few more interesting threads -- younger men, boys that couldn't be much older than himself posing for their webcams, attention whoring and not  _quite_  showing everything that the board wanted, obviously delighting in teasing older men. There was a thin, smirking scene boy with a pierced lip that his eyes lingered on as he scrolled through.

Still, he wasn't impressed or truly swayed one way or the other until he came across one particular and quite long thread. Young Asian men. The images in the thread were good quality, no grainy web cam shots. The subjects were lithe, beautiful boys with stylish haircuts and intense eyes -- sometimes sultry, sometimes innocent. Sometimes kissing another or doing unspeakable things with pouting lips or pressed into tousled bedsheets with lips parted in pleasure. Even better were the solo shots -- fingers that played over muscle, showing everything off and smirking eyes that knew the viewer would like what they saw. Dark hair that fell across faces locked in moans while their hands were busy with dirty pleasure that was only further displayed by drips or splashes across a taught stomach...

Sokka stared. This... this was HOT.

The heat pooling heavily in his stomach and below the waistband of his jeans agreed.

Twenty minutes later, Sokka was falling back against his sheets with a relaxed sigh, more than ready for sleep. Lights and computer off, he was satisfied with his answer and the result of his research. Maybe he wasn't ready to go march in a parade or start flirting with just any guy. But thinking about some of those things... specifically, after letting his mind wander, thinking about doing some of those things with Zuko... what he might look like in those situations... He squirmed again under his sheets, feeling silly all alone as he wriggled into a comfortable place with cheek against his pillow. That, at the very least, he was sure he would like. Perhaps even a step further, wanted. To touch, to see the want and pleasure in golden eyes -- wondering if they could be as intense as the ones he'd been looking at. He hummed to himself, wondered if he thought about it enough if he'd stay awake long enough to have another go. He felt a little bit dirty, a little debauched for thinking about his friend in such a questionable fashion but mostly he just felt satisfied and maybe a little bit thrilled in the little secret that he'd discovered in himself.

Maybe he didn't like, wasn't attracted to all guys. But he was definitely, unquestionably, attracted to Zuko.


	16. Chapter 16

Sokka had offered to drive Zuko to school that Monday and although it was tempting, Zuko shook his head apologetically and declined. He could only imagine Sokka pulling up to the front of his house in a road-worthy but obviously old car, and all the prying eyes of his father's employees, of the cook or Ji. And he knew it would take a bare handful of minutes for the word to reach Ozai himself that Zuko was accepting rides from strange-looking, suspicious delinquents.

On the other hand, Zuko had no qualms about riding in Sokka's car from school to Iroh's. It gave them that much more time to work on the patio, watch movies or observe his Uncle giving Sokka Pai Sho tips and while Zuko tired to follow along.

It was early Thursday evening when Zuko stepped off the bus and began the mile-long trek up the hill to his house. He couldn't help but wonder if his father had chosen this place specifically because no public transportation stopped anywhere within a visible distance from any of the windows.

The afternoon had been a productive one, and Zuko's hair was still vaguely damp with sweat, more color in his face and on his shoulders than he perhaps had ever had besides the occasional sunburn as a child. He was looking forward to a long shower when he stepped into the Hakan manor foyer at just about ten after seven.

He was startled to find his sister there, at the end of the hallway where she was pulling on a light jacket. Azula froze when he entered and she stared at him for a moment with an expression he'd never seen on her face -- something that looked almost like fear. But then she put on her standard smirk and brushed past him, leaning close to whisper, "You're fucked," before the door snapped shut behind her.

Zuko felt his stomach lurch, a chill shaking him as he tried to piece together her expression and her warning. He pulled out his phone, and compared the time to his watch. 7:12. Both of them said the same thing. He wasn't late, hadn't broken his curfew. His uncle had already sought and received Ozai's permission for Zuko to spend his afternoons at his house. Could he have found out that he was still spending time with Sokka and Aang? Zuko's mind raced as his steps took him toward the stairs. It was a group project for school. He couldn't refuse or the teacher would lower his grade. Iroh had needed the help. Sokka was the only boy his age he knew to ask... Every excuse seemed like a lie so obvious that his father would immediately see through it, even the ones based on on truth. His brain screamed at him to turn around, to take Azula's example and flee the house before his father found him, but still he continued up the stairs.

"ZUKO." His father's voice boomed from downstairs just as he had almost reached his room. Ozai's anger was usually a quiet, deadly sort of thing, calculating and inducing fear of the unknown more than anything. "Get down here!"

Zuko flinched, his hand an inch from the door handle, but he dropped it instantly. His pulse began to hammer in his throat. He didn't hesitate, though, whipping around and hurrying down the stairs, toward the sound of his father's voice. Whatever he'd done, running from it would solve nothing. He had to be as apologetic and obedient as possible if he was to come out of this with any chance of winning back his father's approval.

He found his father in the living room. The most public room in the house. It let him know that the staff had all been dismissed. His sister had fled. They were alone in the house.

Ozai's eyes narrowed at the sight of him, looking him up and down with obvious disapproval at his appearance. He knew that Zuko was helping Iroh with something at his house, building something and when the subject had been brought to him it was with a certain grudging assent that he'd allowed it. An underlying tone that told Zuko that his father's opinion was that if Iroh had any self-respect left, he would have paid someone to do menial labor.

When Zuko caught sight of his father, his steps stuttered, slowed, eyes darting around the empty room, stomach clenching in the sort of fear he now understood to be what Azula had, if only briefly, shown on her face. "Father?" Zuko asked, voice quiet, tentative, waiting for the man to say something, anything.

Zuko wasn't sure that he'd ever seen his father like this. He'd seen him very angry before but not in this state -- where his words were shaky as he spoke slowly. He knew his father in control and out of control but never struggling  _for_  control. "I received a telephone call this afternoon," came Ozai's voice finally, low and deep and drilling straight to the source of this anger. "And the caller informed me that you... that you are... INVOLVED -- inappropriately -- with a  _young man_  at your school. Is this true, Zuko?"

Whatever Zuko had been expecting it wasn't this. His eyes flew wide and he took a step back, instinctively, shoulder bumping into the door frame. He didn't feel it, but still he stopped. He stared past Ozai --he couldn't look at him-- and found his head shaking back and forth, while his mouth worked silently. He knew if he spoke, he was going to be sick, already felt the way his stomach churned. Who-- who had told him? Who knew? Who might have seen, might have heard... truth or rumor? More rumors, and why not? If he was eating babies, then it wasn't a stretch at all to spread the rumor that the rich kid likes boys.

He had to say something. He took a breath. "No.. no. They're lying. They-- they say all kinds of things about me there. They say I burned down a gym, they say I broke someone's arm, they... it's just slander... it's... no. No. Please."

Ozai was silent for a long moment, his face stony as he looked upon his blanched son. "A man has an obligation when he starts a family," he began quietly, his voice slightly more controlled now. "Not only to look after his family, to see to their needs, but also to guide them along the proper path." He was walking forward slowly now, closing in on Zuko. "And I have tried -- God help me, I have tried -- as a single parent to do this. And again and again I have found my guidance wasted on you, Zuko." There was danger in his eyes -- a roiling anger that Zuko had seen before -- had seen last when his face had been burned. A heavy hand closed in the front of his shirt and pressed Zuko back against the wall. "I am going to ask you again. Is this accusation true?"

He couldn't lie to Ozai again. But neither could he tell the truth; to admit to such a thing aloud... Zuko still shook his head, but now it seemed more in answer to the hand on his chest, holding him against the wall, than to Ozai's question. "Please," he breathed, shaking hands lifting to touch his father's arm as though it might burn. His scar ached, twisted skin suddenly throbbing as though the wound were new. "Please don't...  _Father_ \--"

"Silence!" Ozai snarled and the wind was nearly pushed from Zuko's lungs when he was slammed roughly against the wall. "I have given you everything, boy! Do you have  _any_  idea how blessed you are for what you have? That you weren't born as gutter trash? You were born RESPECTABLE, something that the average person has to slave to achieve but you were born with it in your BLOOD. And instead of taking pride in that, you have spent your miserable little life endlessly finding new ways to make a mockery of yourself and THIS FAMILY. You're a failure -- personally, academically and now  _morally_." Ozai's hand was trembling, squeezing fingers tightening at the front of his shirt.

Zuko found himself clutching at Ozai's arm as though it were an anchor and not a weapon. He'd thought he would be sick, but now, instead of trying to quell the surge of his stomach, Zuko was fighting the tears that spilled, heedless of his own need to stay strong. " _Please_ ," he mouthed, not daring to give full voice to the word. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. "I-- I didn't," he breathed, barely a whisper, "I stopped. It's-- it was a mistake. Father... I'm not--"

The back of Ozai's hand came with a crack across his face, powerful enough to strike him to the floor. "Get out of my house," his father's voice rumbled. "Go beg for lodging from your worthless uncle. I'm sure he's got plenty of sympathy for your perversion."

Zuko breathed hard, head bowed and arms just holding himself off the floor. He tasted blood and the patterns in the rug blurred together, but all he could hear was Ozai's words, echoing in his ears. He pushed himself shakily back to his feet and searched for his father's face despite the danger of meeting his eyes now. "Please, Father. Don't do this," he begged, stepping forward, reaching for Ozai's hand. "Whatever you want, please. You can't..."

But even as Zuko reached for him, Ozai's hand snapped out, grabbing his wrist roughly and nearly yanking him off his feet. That heavy hand squeezed tight, painful but with obvious restraint as he glared into Zuko's bruised face. "Get out," he growled. "Now." With a shove, he released Zuko's wrist and turned to stalk down the hall until the door to his office slammed.

Zuko stared after him for what felt like a long time, from his knees, the place he'd fallen when Ozai let go of his wrist. He might have stayed there indefinitely had not a loud crashing sound from his father's office reached him, shook him from his trance, spurred his feet to motion. He had to leave, to get away before Ozai re-emerged and found him still there, disobeying him yet again.

He pulled his hood down over his face, slipped out the front door without even so much as grabbing his school bag. He stopped running when he could see the bus stop, then froze, stepped back. What was he doing? He couldn't let other people see him like this. He couldn't do anything else to bring further shame on his family -- his father. Zuko tugged harder at his hood, rounded the block, searched for and thankfully found his phone. His wrist ached and his fingers shook as he dialed Iroh's number. "Please be home. Please be home. Please be--"

"Hello?" his uncle answered the telephone cheerfully.

Zuko sank back against the concrete wall with relief. "Uncle!" he spoke, voice cracking. "I-- I need you to pick me up," he hoped the fact that he was still crying wasn't obvious over the phone. He couldn't stand it if Iroh thought he was weak. "Please," he added, as politely as he could manage.

"Zuko?" Iroh's cheerful tone dropped in the face of surprise. "Where are you?"

"I'm..." he looked around and found the nearest street sign. "31st and Hillsdale."

"It will take me about ten minutes to get there," Iroh said quickly. Zuko could hear him searching for his keys. He didn't question why, didn't even hesitate but he added, "Will you be all right that long?"

Zuko nodded, caught himself a moment later, cleared his throat and answered aloud. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll be..." He trailed off, bit his tongue hard as the tears he'd almost had under control wet his cheeks once more. "I'll be here," he finished roughly and flipped the phone shut. It figured, he swore, that it couldn't even be raining that evening. He laughed at himself quietly, wishing for cliches and waiting for Iroh.

He could only think that Iroh must have been doing sixty through residential streets for the speed at which he reached the neighborhood. His comfortably worn car rolled up to the curb where Zuko was waiting and his uncle's face was etched with concern as Zuko opened the door. "Nephew... what is going on?"

Zuko said nothing at first, just eased into the car and shut the door behind him. Only when he was safely inside the car did Zuko begin to breathe a little easier. "He kicked me out," he finally whispered, staring at the window, still cocooned in his hooded sweatshirt, shoulders hunched and hands tucked in the pocket.

"What?" Iroh exclaimed, uncharacteristically startled. He hesitated for a moment, frowning deeply before he pulled away from the curb -- best to simply leave the neighborhood. "Zuko -- your father... you must understand that what he has been doing is not about you. You are a good young man, but Ozai is becoming more and more unreasonable. There is no good reason to throw your own son from his home!" There was an undercurrent of anger in Iroh's voice that Zuko hadn't heard before.

"There is if his son shames him in every way possible," Zuko breathed, drawing his feet up into the seat under him. He spoke again, even quieter this time, before Iroh could object. "Someone... he knows about Jet."

Iroh fell silent for a long moment. Zuko had never told him about what he and Jet had been, had done, but during that time from the way he spoke about the other boy, Iroh had managed to draw his own conclusions. And had taken it upon himself to have a very brief and very vague but nonetheless very mortifying conversation about staying careful and safe. "That is even less reason for this behavior than anything I could have imagined," Iroh finally said quietly, his anger soft but passionate. "A father should love his son unconditionally even if they are not always able to see eye to eye. My brother does not understand that being a parent involves compassion and understanding as  _well_  as a firm hand."

Zuko shook his head when Iroh began talking and didn't stop even when his Uncle's tongue stilled. "It doesn't matter," he choked, his hands coming up to cover his face, wincing a little at the protest from his injured wrist. "It was my-- my responsibility to honor him and our family. T-to not take his everything he's done f-for me for granted. A-and all I did was f-fuck up over and over and over and over--"

"Zuko..." Iroh's voice was thin with sympathy, with emotion and anger. "None of this is because of you. You will come to understand this with time... I am sorry that you must endure this right now." He sighed heavily. With one hand on the wheel, he reached with the other to give Zuko's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Your friend is still at my home -- we were playing a round. Should I call him?" he asked gently, not wanting to surprise Zuko with the other young man's presence as they came nearer.

Zuko shivered under Iroh's touch, but with his words, he was rubbing at his face, determined not to let his Uncle see him like this. Sokka was still at Iroh's house... Zuko felt his throat close, forced himself to swallow. "It... it's okay. I'm fine," he insisted. If Iroh sent Sokka home, it would only raise more questions. If he could just walk into his Uncle's house, like nothing was wrong, excuse himself for a shower and then bed... that would be best. He was fine. As long as he kept his hood low, they wouldn't even notice.

There was a heavy silence as Iroh's hands returned to the wheel. Finally as they turned into his neighborhood, the older man said quietly, "You are always welcome in my home, Zuko, no matter what happens. You know that I love you as my own."

Zuko frowned deeply, silently cursing the older man for the knot his words set tight in his throat. "Thank you, Uncle," he murmured. "For... picking me up too." When the car had come to a stop, Zuko turned and opened the door, stepping out quickly into the cool night air. He took a centering breath, and scrubbed at his face again. He knew his eyes must look terrible, but neither of them would be getting a good look at his face anyway, he reasoned, tugging at his hood again, just to make sure it was still in place. His wrist he held close, the swelling of the joint thankfully hidden under his sleeve.

Zuko stayed quiet as he followed Iroh to the door, hung back as he fit the key to the lock. Sokka was reading in the front room, having waited nervously for nearly half an hour after Iroh had hurried out with no explanation but for him to stay. Now he looked up and startled with surprise at what the older man had brought home.

"Zuko?"

Iroh hung up his coat near the door and said quietly, "I'm going to make some tea." before leaving the boys alone.

Zuko stared awkwardly at the floor, his shoulder toward the couch and his face turned away. His plan to escape quickly to the bathroom seemed strange and unnatural now, and he wondered how he thought that would work. Now, standing in the same room as Sokka and his nerves on fire with the tension of needing to hide what had happened between him and his father, Zuko wondered what the hell he was doing. The last thing Sokka needed or wanted was to be dragged into this. "Um." He cleared his throat. "Sorry to... you know. Interrupt your game," he managed, almost proud to have gotten the words out without stumbling over his own voice.

"What?" Sokka said incredulously. He found himself rooted to the couch, his heart inexplicably racing. He had no idea what was going on but he had a feeling it was nothing good. "I don't care about that. Are-- are you okay?" He knew Zuko's curfew was ridiculously early at 7:30. It was approaching nine at this point.

Zuko took too long to answer. "I'm fine. I'm-- staying with Uncle tonight," he added by way of completely inadequate information.

"Oh," was all Sokka could think to say at first. The boundaries of their friendship seemed to be constantly shifting and he wasn't sure if what would be appropriate to ask. "Uh -- do you wanna sit down?"

"Um," Zuko swallowed, eyes darting around the room as though looking for some other option, some means of escape. But there was nothing, and even with Sokka standing there looking torn between offering... something and pretending that everything was okay, Zuko still felt as though his uncle's house was the safest place he could be. So finally he sighed, pulled again at his hood, and nodded. "Okay." It was best, really, if he tried to behave as much as possible as though things were, if not great, at least okay. So he stepped over and settled down at the opposite end of the couch, his bruised cheek, thankfully, turned away from the other boy.

Sokka ran a hand through his hair nervously, eyeing Zuko askance as suffocating silence fell on them again. He had reflected a few nights earlier on how he felt that he'd come to know the other boy surprisingly well in barely a month and now he felt that sense eclipsed by the overwhelming sense of just not knowing what to do. Finally though, he swallowed and found his voice which came quietly. "What happened?"

Zuko shifted uncomfortably, leaning forward to rest elbows on knees, eyes trained on the worn off-white carpet under his feet. He wanted to tell Sokka. He  _wanted_  to talk to the boy who had, in the last few weeks become a better friend than he'd ever have thought he'd find outside of Hakan. He  _wanted_ to tell Sokka, but he couldn't justify saddling the other boy with problems he had nothing to do with. Zuko shook his head. "I--"

"Here we go, boys," Iroh reappeared in the doorway, a tray of small ceramic cups in one hand and a steaming pot of tea in the other.

Sokka silently cursed the poor timing though he could hardly blame Iroh for it. He only exchanged worried glances with the older man when Zuko didn't look up. Silently, Iroh poured and Sokka handed Zuko a cup with a light touch to his shoulder.

Zuko flinched, startled by the touch, but immediately sorry for his reaction and without thinking he hurried to take the cup, forgetting to avoid the use of his bruised wrist. It was too late by the time his hand closed around the glazed ceramic, his wrist giving sharp protest to the sudden movement and flex of the joint. As the cup toppled from numb fingers and hit the floor, Zuko jumped to his feet. "I'm sorry, Uncle!"

"Ah--no, no, that's all right!" Iroh was distracted, hurrying to retrieve a towel from the kitchen. But Sokka had noticed -- the jerk of his arm and the tiny grunt in his throat and the bruise that had been exposed when his sleeve shifted with his reach. And even when Zuko looked away again, he stared at the other boy's hands. Now, as he looked closer, he could see the swell of Zuko's right wrist and it made a horrible feeling of dread settle in his stomach.

"I-Iroh," Sokka called, swallowing. "I think Zuko needs some ice."

Zuko glared at the floor, stole a brief glance at Sokka's worried face, scowled at his own carelessness. "I'm fine," he insisted, tugging his sleeve down as he sat and tucking both hands into the pocket of his hood. When his Uncle appeared, towel in one hand and a quizzical expression for his nephew, Zuko shook his head, repeated his reassurances. "I'm  _fine_."

When Iroh turned his questioning gaze on Sokka, the younger boy tapped his own wrist and gave a slight nod to Zuko, lips in a tight frown. The older man frowned as well and handed the towel to Sokka who busied himself as Iroh sat down beside him. "May I see your wrist, nephew?" he asked quietly and gently took Zuko's elbow.

Zuko shook his head, refused to meet his uncle's eyes, tensed when he felt Iroh's hand on his arm. "I'm fine," he said again, the words whispered through his teeth. Then, even quieter, " _Please_  don't..." Please don't look. Don't make me show you these things that will only shame our family. Please don't be so nice, so caring. Please don't make me hate my father...

Iroh's face hardened but his heart and voice and touch stayed gentle. He murmured quietly to Zuko, keeping Sokka from hearing his words. "Zuko," he said softly, his hand still light on the boy's elbow. "You can deny what your father has done but you cannot ignore the physical reality. Please, let me see for just a moment..." He could see now that he was closer, the bruised cheek that Zuko had been carefully hiding.

Zuko turned just slightly, barely enough to find his uncle's eye, pleading silently. But whatever he found in Iroh's face withered his resolve and with a deep, sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, Zuko let his uncle draw his hand free, wincing as the older man's fingers ghosted over swollen flesh. "It hardly hurts at all," he breathed, "Really..."

Iroh sighed very quietly as he lightly turned Zuko's hand over in his own, looking over the injury. The bruises told the story only too easily, marked in the thick bands of angry fingers and the darkest shape of a thumb that'd dug in at the softest point on the joint. Sokka stole a glance up, his stomach churning as he saw in full view what he'd merely glimpsed. Then he was hurrying to stand, to drop off the soiled towel in the kitchen, and when he returned it was with an icepack wrapped in a fresh towel.

Iroh was inspecting Zuko's cheek which seemed to sport only a bruise, if a dark one, across Zuko's cheekbone. He nodded to Sokka and guided Zuko's wrist to the icepack as his nephew's friend sat down across the room again, looking decidedly nervous and upset. "Zuko," Iroh said again softly, keeping his words only in his nephew's ear. "You must tell me if there is more that I cannot see. I know how good you are at hiding pain."

Zuko nodded quietly, understanding if reluctant. "That's all, Uncle. He didn't-- there's nothing else. That's all. I promise." He knew there were probably bruises on his back, from his... contact with the wall of his father's sitting room, but they hardly seemed worth mentioning; he couldn't tell the ache of bruised shoulders from the ache of tension-filled muscles. "It wasn't anything," he felt he needed to add, desperate that Iroh not mis-understand, forgetting to keep his words in whisper. "I-- I talked back. He was only..."

But Iroh's face was stony as he lightly wrapped the ice pack around Zuko's swollen wrist. He opened his mouth to speak but it seemed that their guest could no longer still his tongue and cut Iroh off with anger in his words. "Talked back?!" Sokka repeated incredulously. "It looks like he tried to break your wrist! That's not a reprimand, it's assault!"

Zuko jerked his wrist back from Iroh's hands, holding it and the pack against his chest. "You don't know anything!" he snapped, glancing up to briefly find Sokka's face over Iroh's shoulder before looking away again. "My father loves me! He's j-just trying to lead me back down the right path. To get my life together! He  _cares_!"

There was obviously a heated retort on Sokka's tongue but it was cooled with a sharp glance and a shake of his head from Iroh. Sokka looked away quickly, pouting but ashamed of his thoughtlessness.

Iroh sighed again, heavily this time. "Perhaps," he said softly, "we should get some sleep and face this again when rested.""Fine, good," Zuko ground out, rising to his feet and turning from the couch. "Great idea. Goodnight," he finished hastily, moving toward the hallway. With his hand on the wall, he paused, shoulders tense as he began to turn his head, but seemed to think better of it and stopped. "Goodnight," he repeated, quieter, and disappeared down the hallway toward Iroh's guest bedroom.

 


	17. Chapter 17

Friday morning. When he wandered out to the front of the house, a glance out the kitchen said that his uncle had gone out, judging by his missing car. But when he walked past the front room a second time, he noticed that he wasn't alone. Sokka was sprawled across his uncle's couch, feet sticking from one end and bare shoulders from the other of the blanket that was tossed over him as he snored quietly.

For a long moment, Zuko only stood there, staring, trying to reason out why Sokka was still there. Why he was asleep on Iroh's couch instead of already at school? For that matter, Zuko groaned, why wasn't  _he_  at school? He'd expected his uncle to wake him, and maybe offer him a ride to Rockwave. But school had started half an hour ago and Iroh was no where to be seen.

Zuko sighed, scrubbed at his sleep-stiff face without thinking, cursed quietly as his bruised cheek protested, and walked back to the kitchen. Luckily there were still dishes in the sink, which meant something to occupy him until Iroh returned. Zuko padded over, turned on the water and waited for the basin to fill.

Either the sun streaming through the front window or the sound of the sink was enough to rouse the other boy because as he started washing, he heard a heavy yawn, followed by a yelp, a thump and a curse. A moment later, Sokka stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing at his back sleepily. He stopped with a delayed surprise though, clearly expecting to find Iroh instead of his other guest. "Er--hey," he said, more than a little awkwardly, suddenly trying to smooth his sleep-mussed hair into something vaguely normal.

Zuko shifted from one bare foot to the other, quiet while he finished rinsing and setting aside a plate. Then he took a breath and took a break, reaching with his good hand to shut the water off. "You're not at school," he pointed out without turning around.

"Y-yeah," Sokka responded, suddenly feeling inexplicably embarrassed. What good exactly did he think he would do by being here, again? Especially after doing and saying all the wrong things the night before? Zuko was probably plain pissed off at him. "I just thought -- I dunno. I thought you might want to do something today." The 'to keep your mind off things' went unvoiced.

Zuko sighed faintly, wiped his hands dry on a dish cloth and turned around to lean against the counter, rubbing idly at the bruise on his wrist. The t-shirt he wore did nothing to hide it or the mark on his face, but Zuko seemed determined to not notice they were there. "Do you know where Uncle went?" he asked, finally, failing to address Sokka's offer.

Sokka's glance darted away before he could be caught noting that at least the swelling of Zuko's wrist had gone down. "No," he answered, mirroring the other boy's action by leaning his bare shoulder against the side of the fridge. "I didn't wake up when he left," he admitted. When the kitchen fell quiet again, he coughed faintly and then said, "I'll go if you want me to." It wasn't wounded or pouting for once -- he'd just hoped to be able to... hell, he didn't even know.  _Provide_  something. But he had a bad feeling that he was just making things worse.

Zuko hesitated, considering. "I don't know," he finally answered, as honest as he could be. "This is..." Awkward? Weird? Painful? Really, really embarrassing? "I didn't mean... for you to see all this," he finished lamely, belatedly realizing that he'd used almost the same words after the blow-up with Jet. He looked down then, already afraid he'd said too much, had made it all too awkward by even acknowledging that something had happened.

"Yeah," Sokka answered with a shrug. "But... It must suck to have to deal with it alone."

Zuko opened his mouth to say something, but shut it again just as quickly. He glanced at the remaining dishes, then seemed to make some sort of decision. Stepping past Sokka, he moved toward the hall. "Put on a shirt. I want to go out," he said before ducking back into the bedroom to find the clean clothes Iroh had laid out for him that morning.

"Uh--okay!" Sokka stuttered belatedly and then was raking his fingers through his hair and digging in his pockets for a tie to pull it back with. A few minutes later, he'd managed to hurriedly wash his face and was pulling on his belt and stepping into his shoes at the same time when Zuko returned to the front room. "Where do you want to go?" Sokka asked, trying to keep the enthusiasm from his voice. This was supposed to be serious -- he could be excited about Zuko accepting his closeness another time. "I can drive anywhere, if you want."

Zuko shrugged, having forgotten that Sokka had his car there. "I don't care. Anywhere," he answered, hastily scrawling a note to Iroh before grabbing his sweatshirt and meeting Sokka at the door. At least in the car, Sokka would have to concentrate on the road and not have the chance to worry over him. "Let's just drive."

The younger boy agreed readily as he tossed his bag and jacket into the backseat. His grandmother already knew that he'd spent the night at Iroh's and wasn't expecting him until after school that evening. "I've never done this before," he confided as he pulled off of Iroh's street. It was a very pleasant spring day, just right for the windows to be left down. Which was a good thing, since Sokka's new car had neither functioning heat or air conditioning.

Zuko opened his mouth to answer, but closed it again when he realized he'd been about to say something about Jet. When he'd first been transferred to Arbor and met Jet, they'd gotten into a lot of trouble together, the least of which had been skipping classes. "No big deal," he finally answered with a shrug as he finished buckling his stubborn seat belt. Now that they were both there, close proximity in an otherwise empty car, Zuko found that his hope of avoiding conversation only seemed to make the small space between them awkwardly quiet.

At first, Sokka felt it too, and his instinct threatened to set his mouth in motion; to fill the empty space with blather by pouncing on the first subject that popped into his head. But he bit his tongue and managed to keep from blurting something meaningless and stupid. Zuko didn't need to hear him rambling -- he needed to be able to think and maybe then he'd find his voice again. So instead, Sokka just drove and left the radio off. He got on the freeway and let the wind roar through the car and pull at their hair.

"Mm," was the first sound that emerged from Zuko's lips a half an hour after they left, and he leaned closer to the open window, closing his eyes as dark hair whipped about his face, and tugged at his t-shirt. He let an arm drape out, flat palm riding the current of air in an up and down motion; something he remembered doing as a child. Trees and fence posts rushed past outside, signaling their departure from the city and somehow it made it easier to breathe. "Did you ever take pieces of cardboard and ride them down hills when you were a kid?" Zuko asked after another ten minutes had passed.

This, if anything was not what Sokka was expecting from the other boy and he blinked with a glance from the corner of his eye. His hair was still pulled back but it was a mess now, the whipping wind of driving at 75 with the windows down working strands from their tie and working the tail into a messy puff. Then he grinned, "Yeah. We moved here from up north and my sister and I missed sledding in the snow so our mom told us to do that."

"Yeah." Zuko nodded after a long pause. Then, "Let's find a hill."

For a moment, Sokka was surprised but then he smiled and took the next exit. When Zuko gave him a questioning look as he pulled into the parking lot of a supermarket, he explained, "We need cardboard, right?"

It was a simple enough thing to swing around the back of the store. After only a moment, they were able to find a big, clean broken-down box. With it shoved tightly in the backseat, they were back on the road. Sokka knew just where to go and it seemed like he didn't have to tell that to Zuko for him to understand. The hills were steepest near the ocean. It was easy to pull off the main road and on to a smaller one that cut into the green hills which rolled on one side while the ocean in the distance rolled on the other.

There was no park or designated place to stay, so Sokka parked the car in a pull-out on the side of the road. Just flimsy, impotent barbed wire that would try to keep them from tall green grass that hugged the sloping hills of land.

Luckily, it was easy enough to find a section of fence that was already bent almost entirely to the ground, and Zuko followed Sokka as they stepped over the bent wire and brittle wood posts with the flattened box held over his head like a prize. It was perfect out here. Beautiful and empty with only grassy yellow slopes and the occasionally twisted oak. The breeze was cool, but not chilling and there was no one else around for miles and miles and miles. It was perfect.

"There," Zuko finally spoke, pointing past Sokka's shoulder when the other boy turned curiously. "Over there," he repeated. "That's the one."

Sokka looked back in the direction Zuko indicated -- he was right. It was a good hill. There were no rocks poking out from the grass and it was steep but not intimidatingly so. He took Zuko's lead and started climbing, finding himself grinning because he hadn't done anything like this for years and because it made him think back to simpler times. When they reached the top of the hill, and he had tossed down the box and stepped on it so it sank into the grass some, he found his voice again to tease at Zuko. "Sure it's not too steep?"

"Sit down and grab the front," Zuko instructed, ignoring the other's light teasing. "So you don't slip off."

Sokka snickered but he settled in. Zuko hesitated only a moment before he was climbing onto the cardboard behind him, tucking his legs on either side of the shorter boy and wrapping his arms around Sokka's middle. He didn't say anything then, but after a moment Sokka could feel Zuko's cheek touching his back, painfully tentative.

For a moment, Sokka didn't move or say anything but then inwardly he shook himself, hesitated, second guessed and then finally put a hand briefly over the arms around him. "Ready?" he asked over his shoulder. "We should push off together."

Zuko nodded, his chin bumping lightly at Sokka's shoulder blade as he bent his knees, feet touching the ground just behind Sokka's. The other boy counted to three and leaning forward just the slightest bit, they walked their makeshift sled until it caught the slope. With a shove, they were off, flying down the hill.

"Oh shit!" Sokka yelped, one hand grabbing at Zuko's arms around him for a moment before they both grasped the front of the box. It was much faster than he remembered! But then again, when he'd done it as a child, it hadn't been on cliffs by the sea. The cardboard hissed as it sped over the grass with a surprising speed, the small unseen rocks that were hidden in the blades making the ride rougher. Sokka both laughed and groaned as they were sure to have bruised rears after a few trips down the hill, but it was instantly worth it for the moment that he felt Zuko's arms tighten around his middle.

A long, low groan spilled from Zuko's lips as they hit the bottom, he went tumbling from the cardboard and rolled over twice to lay on his back, arms and legs spread and eyes turned to the cloudless sky. When Sokka's face appeared at the edge of his vision, Zuko bit his lip, hiding the hint of a smile Sokka hadn't seen for... had it really been only a day?

"Again," Zuko breathed. "Let's do it again."

Sokka couldn't help but laugh. He grabbed the edge of the cardboard and started clambering back up the steep hill. They aimed at a new angle, fresh grass to be pressed flat under the box and their speeding weight. This time halfway down the hill, their sled swung sideways and there wasn't much he could do to steer. Instead, Sokka grabbed for Zuko's knees to try to keep from pitching to the side and down the hill. In kind, Zuko tightened his own grip, trying and mostly failing to lean them both away from their rapidly approaching decent.

"Oh shi--" he managed to get out just before they hit a particularly dense clump of weeds and were spun about in the opposite direction, knocking both free once more. Zuko was up again, almost before he stopped rolling. Dragging the cardboard behind him, he hurried to the top once more, then waited for Sokka to sit before settling behind him again.

The third trip down went much more smoothly; no rocks were hit and they made it to the bottom in one piece with both still seated ­-- to their mutual surprise -- and upright. Sokka snickered and suddenly jumped up, grabbing the front of the cardboard and started dragging it back up the hill with Zuko still sitting on it.

"If I break a leg, you'll drive me back to civilization right?" he asked, smirking at the other boy.

"Who said anything about going back?" Zuko answered, clinging awkwardly to the cardboard for a few moments longer before rolling off and joining Sokka in the trek back up the hill. His words were joking, but there was something else there, in his voice, a truthful honesty in his offhanded answer that Sokka knew better than to touch on or point out.

When they stood once more at the top of the hill, Zuko spun a slow circle, looking out around them with something like quiet wonder as though he was only just seeing his surroundings now. "It's beautiful," he murmured, then sat down again, waiting for Sokka.

After the seventh go, both boys were just a little out of breath and their box was beginning to look a little worse for wear, but Zuko still insisted on one more trip down their hill.

The last go was somehow the fastest of them all, though they should have been slowed by the flimsiness that the cardboard was acquiring. But most of the grass on the hill was flattened now and it was slick under them. Sokka couldn't help the shriek that formed in his throat as they hit top speed, forgoing the front of the sled to instead clutch at Zuko's pants and Zuko could feel him tensing, pressing back against him. They sped dangerously down the hill on the track they'd made until they hit the untouched grass which sent the cardboard to a screaming halt and made them both spill forward.

Panting, Sokka groaned on his back in the tall grass, mumbling something about how Zuko was clearly trying to kill him.

His mumbles received no immediate answer, but it was only a few moments later that Sokka heard Zuko crawling toward him, felt something bump his arm, and then Zuko was laying back down nearby, the top of his head only just touching his shoulder. He said nothing; neither did. Zuko searched the sky for anything that might break up the perfect, unrelenting blue, but there was nothing, not even a wisp of cloud or an airplane.

"I can't go back home anymore."

Zuko's words were spoken so quietly that Sokka almost asked him to repeat that but still somehow managed to catch himself. Sokka's breath somehow felt tighter when the words registered, as though it were trying to catch in his chest. For a long moment he didn't say anything because there was only one thing that he could think of. So finally he voiced it in a quiet voice that he turned his head just a little to murmur. "Why?" He had gathered enough from the night before and the few words that he and Iroh had exchanged after Zuko went to bed. But WHY, he wanted to know, would Zuko's father do this to him?

"Because..." Zuko sighed, shifted, and held his bruised arm against his chest. He  _wanted_  to talk to Sokka, he reminded himself. He wanted someone who would listen. Someone who maybe could understand. "Because... he found out about Jet and... because my choices-- because I shamed my family."

Sokka felt his stomach sink a little. He had a feeling it had something to do with that. He decided in that moment that he didn't like Zuko's father for many, many reasons. "Oh," he murmured. "I don't think it's particularly 'shameful.'" There was an anger that burned in his stomach. It was the anger that had made him snap on this very subject the night before and had pushed the wrong buttons so he made an effort to keep the snappish sarcasm out of his voice. "Doesn't he care about you being happy?"

Zuko bristled faintly, on instinct, his habit being in complete defense of his father. Only now there was a tiny, nagging part of him that echoed Sokka's question, and added angrily:  _Why should you care about supporting him when he obviously cares more for his 'empire' than you?_  No, he told it. His father was harsh, but he must believe it was the only way to help his son grow.  _Is that it, really?_

He bit his tongue, closed his eyes. "He... there-- there are more important things than... than my selfish feelings." But he didn't sound as certain, nor as angry as he had last night.

From the corner of his eye, Sokka tried to watch him, tried to monitor what he was inspiring by asking things that may have been completely out of line. But something told him that they really needed to be asked. "What's more important?"

"S-success," Zuko began. "Reputation. Honor. Becoming the kind of man he can be proud of..." He trailed off, embarrassed and discouraged. Saying all these things aloud made them sound so shallow and foolish. But they  _were_  important. Since his mother's death, since the... accident years later, the only goal Zuko remembered having was to make his father proud enough to smile.

Sokka was silent for a long moment. He could understand that well enough, of course. He'd had his own issues with this sort of dilemma in the past -- but perhaps the difference was that he knew his father would love him no matter what. His family was proud of him whether he succeeded or screwed up. He had never really thought about how lucky he was for that. "What  _is_  he proud of?" Sokka asked quietly. Because from what he understood of what Zuko had been doing for the last few years, it didn't seem like anything seemed to make this man happy.

A breeze passed over them, stirring the hair across Zuko's forehead and, despite the sunny sky, it made him shiver just a little. "Strength," he said finally, "Morality. Intelligence. Talent. Dedication. A ruthless and unrelenting pursuit of success. Representing the family honor with impeccable skill and..." He swallowed hard, breath catching painfully as though he'd finally figured out something that had been on the edge of realization for a long time. "Azula," he finished quietly, feeling almost sick with sudden understanding waring with determined denial.

Zuko had told him about his sister and his words made Sokka turn his head, a little startled when he found the other boy so close. "But you don't want to be like your sister, right?" he asked quietly.

"I... envy her," Zuko said, very quietly. "In a lot of ways. Everything I've had to work so hard for has always come easily to her. But..." He turned toward Sokka, for a brief moment meeting the other boy's wide eyes before Sokka looked back to the sky and Zuko found his chin brushing Sokka's shoulder. He shook his head, shallow at first, then with more energy. "No. No, I don't want to be like her." Then, "What do I do? I can't just... I mean, it's everything... everything I know, everything I've fought so hard for... it's just... not fucking fair." At some point an arm had lifted, draped across Zuko bruised, scarred face. "He kicked me out, Sokka." Zuko's voice was muffled by his sleeve, by the emotion that stuck in his throat. "My father. My own father. He kicked me out."

The barely held back emotion that Sokka could hear in the other boy's voice made his stomach twist with sympathy and helplessness. He wished he had answers, wished that he could have told Zuko it'd be okay. But he didn't know that and he had no idea what the other boy could do, let alone what he should do. So all he could say was, "I know. It's bullshit..." And then he stopped, breathed for a long moment before he was gathering his courage to shift, turning on his side so that he could pull Zuko closer into the curve of his shoulder and wrap an arm around him. It was all he could really offer and he could only hope that Zuko wouldn't shove him away as he held the other boy close, cheek against his dark hair.

For a moment, Zuko stiffened, every muscle tense, his breath cut off with a quiet choke, and it seemed like he  _would_  push Sokka away. Then, all of a sudden, his strings were cut and Zuko fell limp, his weight leaning into the curve of Sokka's torso, breath hot and ragged against Sokka's collar. All Zuko's thoughts and fears and worries went unvoiced just then, but he couldn't help but feel them. Somehow the damp that soaked into Sokka's shirt was okay because at least he couldn't see it, and Zuko couldn't see whatever look was on the other's face. Even now, he didn't think he could handle Sokka feeling sorry for him.

But pity wasn't the same as sympathy and understanding which is what Sokka wrapped him up tight in, finding his nose pressed into Zuko's shaggy hair, breath warm there. And he just stayed like that, both his arms coming around the other boy to circle him tight and didn't say anything. And he silently cursed. He cursed Zuko's father for making him hurt like this and he cursed Jet for getting to him first and causing all this. And he cursed himself for the horribly inappropriate urge he had -- to cup Zuko's face and kiss him. His bruised and scarred cheeks and his soft-looking mouth. It was almost painful to swallow back the urge. Thanks to Jet, nothing like that would probably be happening, ever. He really wanted to punch that guy again.

Even as Sokka scowled into his hair, Zuko shifted and lifted his face free enough of Sokka's shoulder to whisper into his neck. "Why are you so nice?" The quiet question ghosted across Sokka's skin. Then, before he could answer, "I wish we didn't have to go back." He didn't want to face his uncle. He didn't want to go back to school and field the stares, or worse yet, the questions his purpled visage would inspire.

Sokka almost sighed at his question, not that he  _could_  answer it. Instead he again steeled his courage and let his cheek brush Zuko's, the points of their temples meeting lightly. He wanted to say 'I'm sorry' but he thought back to when they had talked about their mothers. So instead he murmured, "You won't be alone. We don't have to go yet anyway..." Sokka acknowledged to himself that he would have been content to stay like this until sunset.

"...Okay," was Zuko's reply, followed by a shaky breath as he settled closer, refusing to ask himself why he felt comfortable enough to remain like this. Then, quieter, "Thank you." Maybe Sokka couldn't offer solutions, maybe he didn't have any better idea what to do than Zuko did. But he didn't pretend and he didn't offer false platitudes and he didn't leave. And Zuko could only be grateful.

Sokka wondered if Zuko could hear his heart pounding when they fell silent. They were so very alone and the only sound was the distant, dull roar of the sea and the whistle of the wind through the grass that was tall around them. But even now, Sokka's nature was always nervousness masked by confidence and in this he fought to stay still and quiet. So he found a hand wandering over Zuko's back, rubbing idly, and it didn't feel strange or unnatural to touch him like this. Even if it was out of comfort, it wasn't exactly in the accepted vernacular of masculinity that he'd been taught and repeatedly failed to live up to his entire life.

As his fingers trailed across Zuko's shoulders, Sokka couldn't help but feel a little guilty for what he was feeling. How a little part of him wondered if kissing Zuko would make him feel better, the thought in complete defiance of Sokka's logical brain which knew it would only make things much, much worse. It was unfortunate, he thought, because if the circumstances were different, it would have been perfect. They had spent the last hour clinging to one another and now they were curled up together in the grass -- the next logical step would have been to kiss him, to pin him playfully in the grass and steal his first kiss from another boy and it would have been good and much better than anything Jet had ever done.

But that wasn't the day they were meant to have and that he kept thinking about it made Sokka's stomach clench with guilt at his own selfishness. Things like that were not what Zuko needed now. He thought about the swords that were in his closet at home and he guessed that they'd be staying there for a long time. His fingers were brushing lightly through Zuko's hair and he hadn't even noticed.

For a long time, neither did Zuko. His eyes were closed and his mouth open just enough to breathe. Crying had made his head stuffy and his face wet. It was embarrassing, but somehow he wasn't as humiliated as he should have been. He just felt tired. And, strangely, comfortable. It was only then that he registered the gentle fingers that thread through his hair, brushed the tip of his ear, lifted and repeated the motion. Ridiculously, the touch made him feel like bursting into tears again and he scowled at himself for such weakness.

"Why do you like me?" Zuko's question was quiet, mumbled out around a too-tight throat, and he felt immediately selfish for asking.

Sokka froze for a moment, fear shivering cold through his blood as though Zuko had been reading his thoughts and somehow sensed the secret he was keeping. But then after a moment, his logical side clambered its way to the surface again and made him realize that Zuko was talking about their friendship. He was at least proud of himself for maintaining a calm exterior as he continued to run his fingers through Zuko's hair. "Because," he began quietly. "Because... I have fun with you. I feel like you get me even though we haven't known each other that long. Cause..." He was blushing and was glad that Zuko's cheek was against his shoulder so he couldn't see it. "Cause I like it when you're tough around other people but you smile when you're with me. And you don't care that I'm a nerd and even when you make fun of me, I don't feel bad. Ever."

While Sokka spoke, Zuko's arm slipped out from between them, his fingers finding the fabric of Sokka's shirt sleeve and he wondered-- no, he was sure it was selfish of him to be asking for so much, to be taking so much from a boy he'd known for barely two months. But Sokka didn't pull away and he hadn't even hesitated to answer Zuko's question, and the things he said nudged their way in and settled warm and welcome in Zuko's chest.

"I don't want to make you feel bad," Zuko mumbled. "Ever," he echoed. Not when Sokka was the first real friend his age he'd ever made who didn't seem to  _want_  something from him. He'd thought Jet was like that. He'd even, at one point, thought he might be friends with Azula and her group. He'd thought,  _after_  that, that he didn't need friendship as long as he had his father's love, his father's pride. And now he was beginning to learn otherwise.

"Same here," Sokka murmured back to him, his heart racing and stomach churning as the arm that still circled Zuko's shoulders tightened a little. This was enough, he assured himself. Being able to be there for Zuko, and maybe make him feel a little better, had to be enough. Why would he want anything more, anyway? That never went particularly well for him.

"Then take me back out here again sometime, okay?" Zuko mumbled, his mouth almost touching Sokka's throat, his grip on Sokka's sleeve tightening just a little more. "Where no one can find us and always keep a piece of cardboard in your car. Just in case. And..." A huff of breath, almost a laugh. "And I promise I won't keep asking you for any other stupid things."

Sokka didn't answer for a long moment but he let his nose fall back into Zuko's hair, his cheek all but nuzzling there. He breathed and it made his chest feel tight. When he did finally speak, it was in a whisper that tickled over the curves of Zuko's ear. "You can ask me for anything. Anything."

Zuko said nothing more then. He couldn't. There wasn't anything he could say to acknowledge how much a simple word could mean to someone who'd been taught that happiness was a selfish desire. He couldn't say anything because he knew if he opened his mouth, his throat would close up and he would be reduced to tears again. But he didn't want Sokka to think he wasn't grateful. He didn't want Sokka to think it didn't mean anything. So he nodded. Took a breath. Nodded again.

For a long time, they stayed like that and neither needed to say anything. Sokka listened to his own heartbeat and Zuko's breathing and felt his warmth against him. He would smooth the other boy's hair idly now and then or his fingers would trail across his shoulder, but mostly he was still and they just existed and felt and held to one another with the cool breeze tickling the long grass wherever it could reach. The sun was warm and the emotion of everything was exhausting and it could have been minutes or hours that it took for Sokka to nod off, though his arms around the other boy did not slacken.

But Zuko stayed awake. He stayed awake though he refused to acknowledge that it was the fear of waking up alone that kept his eyes open. That lying there in the grass with Sokka, he could almost feel, almost believe that everything would be okay in the end. He didn't want to miss a single moment of that feeling. He couldn't bear to think that he might go to sleep and wake up to find it gone. So he scanned the hills beyond Sokka's shoulder, and looked for the next one they would visit when they came back.

When Sokka woke, it was to apologetic murmurs in his ear and Zuko leaning over him. But Sokka was never particularly good at waking up. He had to set his alarm about two hours in advance because he would hit snooze and it was usually only his sister that would come pounding on his door in the morning to get him out of bed. So when he started to wake and the sun was still bright, he wrinkled his nose and blindly reached for Zuko, pulling the other boy down on top of him. He mumbled incoherently as he nuzzled deeply into the curve of Zuko's shoulder and sighed heavily against his skin.

But then he really  _did_  wake up, eyes blinking open wide and nearly blinding himself. It was as though his conscious had started screaming and beating his subconscious until he jerked into alertness. He released Zuko convulsively, his face turning a deep crimson as he fell stiffly back against the grass. "Sorry..." he mumbled.

"It's okay..." Zuko breathed, flushing a bit himself as he rocked back onto his heels. He reached to tuck a bit of hair idly behind an ear, a useless endeavor as the breeze blew past and pulled it loose again. "I didn't... really want to wake you but-- Um... It's almost four...I just thought you might be getting hungry. Or something."

Sokka managed to keep his composure, surprisingly and relaxed again into the grass, looking up at Zuko. "Have you ever been to a Denny's?"

He couldn't help but laugh at the expression Zuko turned on him then, skeptical and mildly disturbed. He shook his head, nose scrunched in distaste. "Uncle said once that even the people who  _like_  Denny's hate it."

"Yeah, that's pretty much true," Sokka said with a slow nod. "It's pretty awful. But it's great. But it's HORRIBLE -- but sometimes it's perfect. And it will kill you slowly. C'mon, let's go." The younger boy hauled himself to his feet, stretched and went to retrieve the cardboard so they weren't littering.

Zuko shook his head, hid an almost-smile behind a cough and followed Sokka back through the grass to where the car still waited, patient and peeling and welcoming.


	18. Chapter 18

When he got home, it was close to eight. He'd been loathe to leave Zuko at all after the day they'd spent together. But he forced himself to acknowledge that Zuko should probably spend some time alone with his uncle who was going to definitely be the person to offer him guidance through these difficult times.

Driving home, he had a strange feeling that he could only analyze was joy warring with guilt. He shouldn't have enjoyed the day so much. Zuko was miserable and heartbroken. For Sokka to be happy after spending a day with him just seemed sadistic. But he couldn't shake it so he finally concluded that he must he just be happy because maybe he was able to make Zuko feel a little better. He'd even smiled a few times over their horrible lunch, which Sokka had joked his way mercilessly through.

When he got home, he sneaked in the front door as through it were three in the morning. He wasn't hiding from GranGran. In fact, he crept through the house to check in with her before he tip-toed up the stairs, shutting his bedroom door ever so lightly. Safe. He breathed a sigh of relief. He peeked in his closet at the dual swords that were still in their single scabbard, propped in the corner. Then he turned on his computer -- he hadn't checked his email in days.

But he hadn't even the chance to let the machine finish booting up before there came a knock on his door. Sokka's stomach sank. It was probably Aang, he told himself. Definitely. He'd come over to hang out. But not surprisingly it wasn't Aang at all that was behind his door.

Katara stood there, arms crossed and mouth set in a firm, thin line. "Welcome home," she said, not sounding very welcoming at all.

Sokka laughed, trying not to sound nervous. It was his little sister. Of course he wouldn't be nervous. That would make him a gigantic wuss. "Hey Katara," he said and put on a winning smile. "How's it going?"

"I dunno," she answered, arms dropping to her sides as she invited herself in, crossing the room to lean against the opposite wall. "How  _is_  it going? Why should I know? I'm only your sister. I told people you were sick."

"Oh." Sokka flopped down into his computer chair, facing his sister. "Thanks, Katara. I appreciate that. Luckily I didn't miss much since Fridays are short for me right now."

A long silence stretched between them then, with Katara staring pointedly at her brother before finally giving up with a gasp of impatience. "Sokka, where have you  _been_? You told GranGran you were staying the night at a friend's on Thursday and no one heard from you since. And then you just didn't show up at school? What's going on? I swear, if you're taking drugs or something stupid like that, I'm gonna--"

"What?!" Sokka said and he couldn't help the laugh that burst from his mouth. "No -- Katara, you know me better than that. I just needed a day off, that's all. We went out to the ocean. It's not a big deal."

"'We'?" she pressed, suspiciously. "And since when do you skip class?"

Damn, his tongue had slipped. "Yeah -- me and Zuko --" he said, so casually that it wasn't casual at all. "And since never! I've NEVER skipped a class before, Katara. That's the point."

"Exactly!" Katara shot back. "So why start now? It isn't like you! In fact, you've been kind of weird since you started spending so much time with him." It wasn't that she still believed Zuko was a baby-eater, but that didn't mean she entirely trusted him. And if he was convincing Sokka to cut class now...

"I'm not weird!" Sokka snapped but her words immediately set his heart racing. It had been surprisingly easy for him to come to terms with what he now realized he felt for Zuko -- but he definitely wasn't ready for anybody else to find out. "Look, I just wanted a day off. Do I have to be a perfect student every freaking day of my life?"

"No! I'm not saying that," Katara returned, hands spread in exasperation. "I just want to know that he's not... encouraging you to make bad decisions. If Dad was here, he'd say the same thing!"

Sokka frowned deeply, but her words hit their mark. When he looked at her again, there was a sharp intensity in his eyes. "Can you keep at secret, Katara? I mean  **really**  keep a secret and I'm not talking about stupid schoolyard rumor bull. Like a serious one."

Katara cast her brother a suspicious look, brow raised expectantly. When he didn't speak right away, she sighed and sat down on the edge of his bed. Finally she shrugged, nodded. "Yeah, Sokka, of course. You know I'm not interested in spreading gossip."

"I was with Zuko today because his dad kicked him out. Like, out of their house," he said, his tone setting the severity of what he was telling her. "He put him on the streets with nothing and now Zuko's staying with Iroh. I was over at Iroh's when he came back -- his dad had hit him or something, Katara. His face is bruised and his wrist was all messed up."

Whatever she'd been expecting her brother to say, it hadn't been that, and for a long, quiet moment she just stared at him with eyes wide. "Are you serious?" she finally asked, not really believing her brother would go so far as to make something like that up, but somehow needing to ask anyway. "And... that's why you skipped school."

"That's why I skipped school," Sokka said, quietly. Maybe it was a bad idea to tell Katara -- but he found that a part of him really wanted her to get over her unfounded suspicion of Zuko. He wanted her to see him as a human being who had feelings and problems like any of them instead of constantly thinking that there was some monster that was hiding underneath the surface. If anything it was exactly the opposite and he was only more human on the inside than the out. "Don't tell anyone, okay?" he warned seriously. "He takes enough shit at school without _that_ getting out."

Katara frowned deeply, and shook her head. "Of course I won't tell anyone, but... if his dad really is... you know... hitting him, shouldn't he tell the police or something?"

Sokka sighed and sagged back into his chair. "Yeah, I know," he said quietly. "The thing is... he's really hung up about it. He was trying to hide it from me and Iroh last night. He... he really wants his dad to be proud of him and he just blames himself for everything his dad does to him." He scowled. With the events over the last couple of days, he could think of nothing more satisfying than Zuko's father being punished for his actions. But then he sighed. "Iroh's in the middle of it. He'll do something about it, I'm sure."

"Mm," Katara nodded vaguely. She did, at least, trust the older man to take care of his nephew. It had always seemed to Katara whenever Sokka and Aang managed to drag her over to Iroh's, that Zuko's uncle was a truly kind and respectable man. "Is... he going to be okay?" she asked finally, admittedly just a little more concerned for her brother's involvement than Zuko's well-being, but well... she could at least ask, since Sokka seemed so worried.

"I... I think so.” He had already asked himself this. Wondering what would happen was gnawing at him for the most terribly selfish reasons. Mostly: would Zuko try to return to his father or roll with this change? Personally, Sokka thought it would be a huge improvement for everything in Zuko's life for him to live with his uncle. He shook himself out of his reverie to focus again on Katara. "I just hope he doesn't try to go back," he confided to her. "But he's really crushed by it."

"Well, yeah," Katara said, as though this were obvious. "I mean, no matter how terrible your parents are, it would still hurt to be rejected by them." She sighed quietly, meeting her brother's worried eyes and patting the bed beside her. "If he's smart, he'll stay with Iroh."

Sokka eyed her a little suspiciously but he rose to join her on the edge of the bed. "What, so you're not mad at me anymore?" he asked, bitingly sarcastic.

Katara rolled her eyes dramatically and punched him in the thigh when he sat. "Look, whether I like the guy or not, you... you did a good thing by being there for him," she admitted, only a little grudgingly. "And if you'd just  _told_  me in the first place, I wouldn't have had to worry about you. Jerk." She punched him again for good measure, but there was little power behind it and she leaned into his shoulder at the same time.

"Katara..." For his sarcasm a moment prior, his voice dropped to a whine with her violence. But he let his head fall and bump against hers affectionately and stayed there for a long moment, considering his next words. "I... I really like him," he murmured to her and even though his heart fluttered, he knew she wouldn't take it like  _that_. But it meant something for him to say it. Sokka wasn't exactly the best at getting close to people. In middle school, being bumped up a grade got him picked on and ostracized and ironically he ended up spending more time with people younger than himself but never really found a  _closeness_ , a connection until Yue. Sokka quickly shook himself and murmured, "I just want you to know."

She said nothing at first, but the fist she'd hit him with opened to a gentle hand and she let it rest on his knee. "Sokka..." she began, a faint sigh touching her voice. "You can be really dumb sometimes, but you're also the smartest person I know. I'm... glad you have a friend and as long as you continue to make your own decisions --instead of letting other people make them for you-- I'll... mind my own business. Mostly. Okay, well, I won't get mad. Often." In truth, Katara found some measure of relief in her brother's behavior lately. After Yue's death, he hadn't made much of an effort to make new friends aside from his time spent on WoW, and the only time he spent outside with other people had been when he was at school. At least, since Aang had dragged Zuko into their group, Sokka seemed to be making an effort again.

Sokka couldn't help but laugh at her little speech and he wrapped an arm around her. Her words meant a lot -- for both of them. Katara needed to learn to trust him for her own sake as much as his so that she didn't spend all of her energy trying to parent him. "Wanna make milkshakes?" he asked, standing up and turning off his computer monitor.

"Don't you mean watch me make them and then, maaaybe if you're nice, let you hit the buttons on the blender?" Katara stood too, smirking in that way that only a little sister who acted more like a big sister could pull off.

By the time Monday rolled around, Iroh was still hesitant to let his nephew return to school. He was more than willing to drop the school a line and explain that the boy was ill or whatever they needed to hear. But Zuko just shook his head and gave his uncle a hug and assured him that getting back to his life (such as it was) was the best thing for him, that sitting at home only lead to  _thinking_  and he was tired of thinking so much.

"I'll be fine," he insisted, pulling his hood up over his head, giving it an extra tug. "No one wants to look too closely at my face anyway," he pointed out with what was supposed to be a reassuring smile.

"But what about your school bag?" Iroh frowned, clearly not convinced.

"The notebook you gave me is fine, I have a pencil, and Sokka is going to share his textbooks with me for now. Really, Uncle, it's okay. I'll see you after school. Sokka's going to come help with the deck."

To Zuko's immense relief, a car horn sounded outside just then, saving him from needed to further reassure his uncle.

"You'll call if you need anything!" Iroh called as Zuko hurried for the front door.

"Of course!" Zuko shouted back with a short wave as he finally stepped outside, lifting a hand in greeting and slipped into the backseat of Sokka's car when he saw Katara already occupying the front.

"Hey." Sokka offered a smile as the door shut and Katara looked at him over the back of her seat.

Before her brother could pull away from the curb though, she spoke up, "Hang on." Then she slipped out of the car and was shooing Zuko over as she joined him in the back seat. The two boys tensed noticeably as she buckled her seat belt.

"Katara..."

"Oh, be quiet and drive, Sokka," she interrupted him, eying Zuko as Sokka put the car into gear. He offered his friend an apologetic look in the rear view mirror.

Zuko glanced between Sokka and his sister, confused for a moment, frowning faintly as he buckled himself in.

"...What's up?" he asked, casual but cautious as he glanced across the seat at the girl who was watching him quietly.

Katara looked at him, frowning just a little bit and then she sighed and when she spoke, her voice was surprisingly gentle. "Do you want some make-up?"

Zuko blinked back at her, surprised, the glanced to the front where Sokka was now staring steadfastly at the road. He frowned, but found he didn't really have it in him that morning to be angry. So instead he sighed, met Katara's eyes across the back seat and pulled his hood back to turn his bruised cheek toward her. The mark hadn't really faded, but a rather nasty sort of green had joined the purple, a sign that it was, at least, slowly healing. "I guess you know, then."

The younger girl lifted a brow at him and started digging in her bag, retrieving a make up case. "I know that you have a big bruise on your cheek and I'm sick of trying to keep track of all the rumors about you," she said loftily, finding a compact of foundation that matched Zuko's skin tone. "Lucky for you, I got this for Toph and she won't use it.” Her own dark skin was a contrast against Zuko's pallor when she tugged him closer by the chin. Her brow tensed with concentration as she padded his bruised cheek lightly with the applicator.

He'd been fully prepared to complain about her rough treatment, to flinch away with a scowl, but surprisingly, the younger girl's touch was much gentler than her countenance and though she frowned at him, he hardly felt more than a faint ache where the sponge touched his cheek. It took only another moment to relax, and he was grateful at her avoidance of conversation. Whether she could sense that he didn't want to be treated any differently, or whether she was simply continuing to not much like him, didn't really matter to Zuko. Whatever her motives, it was what he needed and Zuko let his eyes close as she blended the pale cream into his skin.

Sokka's nervous glances in the rear view mirror didn't go unnoticed and Katara shot him a glare, warning him to keep his concentration on the road. "There," she said, her voice softening again as she sat back and offered Zuko the compact's mirror to see her handiwork.

Taking the compact in hand, Zuko reluctantly looked into the tiny mirror, turned his face until he could see his bruised cheek bone. The mark couldn't be completely covered, but the concealer did make it much less noticeable, more like a bruise that was nearly healed instead of something recent. "Thank you," he said, handing the compact back to her and pulling his hood up once more.

Katara just nodded softly and repacked her bag. Not even Sokka seemed to dare to shatter the understanding sort of quiet that came over the car. But mostly it was because he was thinking way too hard, frowning deeply over the wheel.

Sokka was very close to his sister. He knew her extremely well. And he knew that she was one of the most fickle-hearted people he had ever met. She was extremely passionate and the nature of her passion seemed to have thinned or blurred lines. Her love, when spited, could become an absolutely furious hate. And vice versa. He also knew that Katara liked two things when it came to boys: dashing heroes and boys who needed help (read: mothering). Even with Jet, for whom they both now shared a deep disdain, it had been like pulling teeth to make her realize that he was bad news and didn't just 'need someone who cared'. So as he found a parking space, alarm klaxons were sounding in his head.

She was quick to bid them goodbye when they had piled out of the car, jaunting across the grass as she shouldered her pack.

"She has ingrown toenails," Sokka told Zuko as soon as she was out of earshot.

"What?" Zuko turned to stare at Sokka, not missing a step but clearly missing some part of a conversation he hadn't noticed they'd been having. "Um, okay. Well. That's... interesting and kind of gross..."

"I just thought you should know," Sokka said with a shrug and innocently arched brows. "C'mon, I wanna get something to eat before class." He tugged lightly at Zuko's elbow and after a moment added quietly, "She did a good job."

"No one would've noticed anyway." Zuko shrugged and let Sokka lead them toward the open cafeteria. "But," he admitted, falling back into step, "it was nice of her." He glanced over at Sokka who was looking at the ground, and he couldn't help wondering just how much she knew. He surprised himself then by realizing that he didn't really care if she did know. Though she may have originally placed too much stock in the rumors that had floated around the school about him, somehow he felt that she would have no desire to start new ones.

It turned out to be a strangely normal day. As predicted, no one noticed the bruise or his still injured wrist. The only one who would have really said anything anyway was Toph and obviously she had no means of noticing. At school, it was like nothing had happened. That he would go to his uncle's for a few hours after school and then head home. There were questions about where the two boys had been on Friday but Sokka was quick to shrug them off, acting cool and saying that they were just off goofing at the beach because they felt like it. Toph punched him for trying to act tough, and Aang pouted because he hadn't been invited.

That afternoon, the whole gang came over to work on the deck and Sokka stayed late after to work on homework. Iroh made a stir-fry for dinner and surprised them with what a good cook he was, only smiling mysteriously when they asked where he had learned. When homework was exhausted, Sokka was reluctant to leave, suggesting that they watch a movie. Iroh had already turned in and the house was dark but for the television's glow as Sokka sneaked worried glances in the dim light. He was sitting too close and he knew it but he couldn't seem to help but let his shoulder brush against Zuko's, hoping it seemed like a reassuring gesture.

Zuko's eyes were trained on the TV, but by the tenth time he felt Sokka's concerned gaze on him he turned and caught him in the act with a sigh. "Sokka, I'm  _okay_." As flattering as his worry was, it grated on Zuko's nerves just a little too much to ignore. "Really. Didn't today go fine? No one even noticed."

"Sorry," Sokka stammered a bit. He was just thankful for the darkened room that hid his blush since while there was definite concern in his glances, there were also ulterior motives that Zuko wasn't privy to. He shifted away -- he was probably driving Zuko crazy. He should have made some kind of excuse -- that he had food on his face or that was just a tic that Sokka had -- something stupid like that. But for once, he couldn't bring himself to do it.

But Zuko was already shaking his head. It was silly to be annoyed over such a little thing. It wasn't as though Sokka were feeling sorry for him. He was only trying to make sure Zuko was alright, which, given the circumstances, was a perfectly understandable thing to do. "No, it's okay," he answered, turning his head toward Sokka to search his profile in the dark. "Um, anyway thanks. You know, just for everything. For Friday and today..." He rubbed idly, awkwardly at his knees, and tried to concentrate on the feel of rough denim under his palms.

Sokka was looking at the television but it wasn't registering, forgotten and easy to block out since it was subtitled. It hadn't been about watching a movie anyway, it had just been about not leaving. He swept his loose hair away from his face and his eyes wandered somewhere, landed on Zuko's hands on his knees. And finally he shrugged. "It's not a big deal," he said quietly. He felt guilty because while everything  _was_  driven by the attempt to make Zuko felt better, he found himself painfully aware of his own benefit of the situation. He kept thinking back to the other boy curled against him in the tall grass and how messed up it was that Zuko was looking to him for comfort and he was enjoying giving that comfort a little too much. "You tired?" he finally murmured. It was late and he was probably imposing by now.

But Zuko only shrugged. "Not really. You?" He had to admit, he really didn't want Sokka to leave. He didn't want to walk the other boy to the door, close it behind him and walk back into a dark, quiet house to curl up in bed and not sleep and think about all the things he didn't want to think about. Before Sokka could answer, Zuko cut in, "Just-- just stay over.” He realized it was a selfish request, but wasn't quite able to keep it from slipping past his lips.

The other boy's blue eyes turned on him then, maybe a little bit surprised. But after a moment, he answered, "Okay." And then he was leaning back into the space he'd just left and his shoulder pressed lightly into Zuko's.

Somehow, inexplicably, this small contact, along with Sokka's simple affirmation, was enough to let Zuko relax, to turn his attention back toward the movie that he'd only been half-watching. "Cool," he sighed, reached for the remote between them, his knuckles just brushing the denim of Sokka's jeans.

Lazily, Sokka got out his phone to text Katara that he'd be staying over. Their grandmother didn't seem to mind at all and he could only think that he was getting some leniency in exchange for a career of being painfully studious. With his phone tossed onto the couch after, he tried to turn his attention back to the movie. But it was pretty useless. His focus was entirely on the point of contact of their upper arms and how he wanted to lean into that more. How he wanted to slide his hand over Zuko's. How he wanted to let his head rest in the curve of his shoulder. Instead, he pinched idly with hidden fingers at the fabric of the couch and only half registered the movie subtitles.

But though his mind was churning, Sokka's body was still terribly fond of sleep and toward the end of the movie, he was drifting. His weight sagged heavier against the other boy and his head nodded. Even as he felt Sokka sink into him, Zuko's eyes stayed on the television, though his focus also was elsewhere, and the small fond smile that crept across his lips had nothing to do with the film. He knew he should wake Sokka up, should go climb into bed himself, but something kept him there. And a small, but growing voice reminded him that the only repercussion for falling asleep on the couch  _this_  time might be a sore neck. The thought was surprisingly freeing.

Sokka woke a little when his cheek brushed Zuko's shoulder, startling in a tiny sleep spasm but not jerking away. He woke only enough to know where he was, what he was doing and that he should pull himself away, lie back in the other direction. But instead he let the veil of sleep hide him, his cheeks softly heating as he let his head sink fully against Zuko's shoulder. He was careful to slow his breath, eyes lightly closed. He was asleep. But inside his heart raced and he just prayed not to be caught.

But a mere breath later, he felt Zuko relax beside him, and the other boy's cheek came to rest on the top of Sokka's head, as though by perfect accident. Then, he heard Zuko's voice, just a whisper.

"Goodnight, Sokka."

It took him some time to get to sleep as it turned out, but he was completely relaxed and Zuko was warm. And he almost didn't  _want_  to actually fall asleep, especially when he could listen to the other boy's breathing and turn his head just a little to press his nose into the curve of Zuko's shoulder.

Somehow the sore necks both would likely have upon waking seemed completely worth it.

The following day, Sokka woke blearily, finding himself warm and comfortable and pressed into Zuko's shoulder. He had no idea how they had ended up lying down, they must have moved in the middle of the night. All he knew was he was tucked under the other boy's chin, arm slung lightly around his waist. There was a throw blanket over them, aiding in fighting off the morning chill, but it was Zuko's warmth that really did the thing. Sokka felt himself melt a little inside, even as groggy as he was. He wasn't sure anything had ever felt so good and so right. He didn't care what time it was -- he'd miss another day of school if he needed to. He wasn't about to move until Zuko woke and realized they needed to get up. As it was, he nuzzled his cheek into the other's collarbone and snuggled a little closer, carefully so he didn't wake the other boy. And he shut his eyes and breathed him in and dozed and was sinfully happy.

As it turned out, what woke him next was not Zuko's stirring, but rather a warm hand on his shoulder and the gentle, apologetic murmur of Uncle Iroh's voice as he leaned over the couch.

"Forgive me for waking you," the older man spoke when Sokka's eyes blinked open. His words were quiet enough to avoid disturbing his nephew, meant for Sokka's ears only. "I was hoping to have a moment to speak with you before you and Zuko leave for school."

Sokka blinked up at Iroh, instantly embarrassed beyond belief, perhaps before he was even fully awake. But even though he flushed dark, he nodded and carefully extricated himself reluctantly from Zuko's warmth. Disappointment tugged at his heart, and when he left the couch Zuko sighed in his sleep and turned over.

A little while later, Sokka was nudging the other boy to wake. On the way to school, he told Zuko that he had a doctor's appointment that afternoon so he was going to have to leave early and apologized that he wouldn't be able to give him a ride home. But Zuko only smiled and shook his head, assuring Sokka that could take the bus all by himself and be perfectly fine.

For Zuko's part, the day passed in a somewhat surreal sort of haze. Katara had graciously let him keep the pad of makeup and between that and the hoodie he always wore anyway, once again no one even noticed the bruise that had begun to turn an ugly yellow around the edges. It was beginning to heal.

He ate lunch with Aang and the others and was quiet, but no one said anything or even really seemed to notice. Zuko remembered that even  _before_ , he'd never had a whole lot to say, content to eat and observe as their animated banter was tossed back and forth.

Still, by the time the end of the day rolled around, when he stepped from the bus to make the three block trek to his Uncle's, a certain exhaustion was weighing on Zuko's shoulders. When he let himself into the house, it was all he could do to call out “I'm home!”, tuck his keys away and pull off his sweatshirt before sinking into the welcoming couch. He hadn't even thought to wonder why Iroh hadn't answered his greeting before sleep was pulling at his limbs.

It was a good hour after he'd dozed off before Iroh was nudging him awake gently. "Nephew... There is something upstairs for you."

Zuko blinked and woke with a start, sitting up before his eyes had quite focused. "Uncle?" he queried, rubbing at his face before he remembered the skin was still tender. He winced, then scowled at his carelessness.

“Come now,” Iroh said smilingly, a gentle hand on Zuko's shoulder urging him to his feet and guiding him to the stairs.

"In here?" he asked as his steps paused outside the guest room that his Uncle had so graciously lent him. As he reached for the doorknob though, it opened and Sokka was grinning at him from the other side.

"Surprise!" he said, tugging Zuko into the room.

His school bag lay on the bed and on the shelf beside it, a good number of his books. On the desk, the framed picture of his mother and his computer and in the closet, his clothes. His practice swords were mounted on the wall, his posters too.

"What-- is all this?" Zuko heard himself ask, face blank and eyes staring, sweeping around the room.

"Your things," Iroh responded, smiling faintly. "Though material possessions shouldn't be the center of your universe, sometimes they can provide comfort in troubling times."

"We went and got stuff this afternoon when nobody was home," Sokka put in with a grin.

But Zuko did not seem nearly as pleased at this announcement, his face paling noticeably as he crossed to the desk and looked up at the swords on the wall. "Why?" he asked finally, the question breathed through a tight throat. "Why would you do that?" he continued, a little louder. "I never  _asked_  for you to do this!" He hands clutched the edge of the desk, as though needing the support of solid wood and his voice rose, anger coloring his words.

Iroh frowned quietly but Sokka's face was etched with surprise and worry. "What? We just thought -- I mean, you need clothes, right? Don't you think you'll be more comfortable?"

"All right, fine! I need clothes!" Zuko shot back. "I don't need... EVERYTHING! This is  _not_  my house! I'm not-- this is like..." He stuttered over his words, looking for the right ones to explain the sudden squeezing, clawing sensation in his chest. "I don't-- I don't want to... this isn't  _my_  room! It's like you both think... Oh my god, I can't—I can't--" Zuko shook, pulled at the front of his shirt. His breathing was stilted, wheezing, and he closed his eyes, fighting a surge of dizziness that threatened his footing.

"Zuko...!" Iroh cried in alarm and he hurried to Zuko's side, a hand on his shoulders guiding him to sit down. "Sssh, calm down now. Slow, deep breaths. There is nothing final in this, Zuko. Nothing is permanent. It's all right."

Sokka could only stare on from the doorway, fighting with the sick, heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach and the dryness of his mouth while Zuko clutched at his uncle's arm, just a little too tightly. His face was pale, clammy and his shoulders were shaking even as Iroh's pushed him down to the edge of the bed. "You-- you think he's not going to forgive me," Zuko choked out, a hand on his throat as he tried to swallow around the knot that had settled there. "Y-you think... It's not! It's not for good!" he tried to shout, but his uncle's grip made him feel weak, tired. "It-- it can't be..."

"I know, Nephew, I know..." Iroh murmured, a wide hand rubbing his back gently. Though Zuko would eventually have to face the reality before him, at the moment it was much more important for him to breathe. "Nothing is written in stone, Zuko, never," he soothed. "Things are always changing. This is only a dot on the map of your life. But don't you think you will make better plans with more comfort around you? Breathe now, Zuko. Deep breaths."

Zuko coughed, quaking hands lifting to rub at his face, not caring now at the twinge of protest sparked by the rough treatment of his bruised skin. The pain was grounding, in a way that his Uncle's empty reassurances could not be. His pulse still raced, but little by little he reigned in his breathing, knowing Iroh was, at least, right about that much. He needed to breathe.

But with calm came embarrassment and a different sort of sinking feeling that wouldn't let Zuko meet Sokka's eyes in the doorway. "I don't want to talk anymore," he whispered, guilt and humiliation nudging into his psyche to join the anger fading into the most frustrating sense of helplessness. "I'm tired."

Iroh nodded faintly, suppressing a sigh. "Get some rest now, Nephew. I'll wake you for dinner later."

Still watching Zuko with an expression of guilt, sadness and helplessness, Sokka numbly felt Iroh pat his shoulder as the older man walked past him. There wasn't anything he could say. Besides, Zuko didn't want to talk. So he forced his feet to move and stepped out, lightly closing the door behind him. He wandered out into the front room and collapsed at the dining room table, face-planting into his crossed arms. "Ugh."

He didn't hear Zuko's uncle join him until the quiet thump of a water glass beside his elbow alerted him. Then Iroh's wide hand was on his arm, just a brief touch before he moved to the stove and put a tea kettle on to boil.

"All of this must be very hard on you," Iroh murmured, already sifting through his assortment of teas, searching for something in particular. When he found it, he set it aside, and turned his head just enough to steal a glimpse of the boy at his table, Iroh's worry well-disguised but his expression gentle.

"Huh?" Sokka jerked up a little, trying to gain some composure again. "Thanks..." He wrapped his fingers around the glass but didn't lift it to his lips, scowling into it. "On me? He's the one it's hard on... I just... I wish I could  _do_  something. I thought that would be something that I could do. But it just made it worse..."

But Iroh shook his head, smiling a little sadly as he measured out the tea and crossed to settle at the table, waiting for the water to heat. "Zuko is... going through a difficult metamorphosis," he began. "In some ways it is  _this_  part that is the most challenging. Even more so than the night I brought him home. He does not think he  _wants_  to change. But no, young man. You did not hurt him. You have done much good for him already."

Sokka looked at him skeptically, swirling the water in the glass. "I just..." He shrugged and mumbled, "He's done more for me."

At this, Iroh smiled, reached out to place his hand over Sokka's, offering a firm squeeze before sitting back again. "I have been very glad to see the friendship between you two blossom," he agreed. "And it is just that closeness that makes this situation difficult for those who care for him to bear. You want to see him happy but it feels as though there is nothing that will make him so, hm?"

The boy sagged a little with the truth in Iroh's words. "Yeah," he said quietly. There was also the added factor that was the guilt at how much  **more**  closeness he wanted. And how he was taking advantage of Zuko's need for comfort, enjoying it a little too much when the chance came to wrap his arms around the other boy. He felt particularly hopeless about it now, since not only could he not take an action because of Zuko's emotional state, but seeing that the other boy was so dead set on earning back his father's approval even now meant there was probably no chance that he'd ever think about dating a guy ever again. Not that he was about to tell all of this to Zuko's uncle.

"I confess," Iroh continued quietly, "that I may have been premature with our actions this afternoon. I had hoped..." He shook his head. "Never you mind. Zuko will come to understand what he must do and what he must let go of. More importantly, he will need to realize that it is perhaps not his father's love he should hold so dear. I wonder if he is not looking so hard to regain that whithered and rotten connection that he does not see how precious is the one already within his grasp." Iroh looked for and caught Sokka's eyes, held them for a long beat.

Sokka looked a little like a trapped rabbit and hurried to look away, finally taking a drink of the water Iroh had given him. "It seems like you're a lot better to him than his own father is." His tone clearly said what he thought of Zuko's dad.

Iroh closed his eyes briefly, a tired sigh slipping almost unnoticed past his lips. "I will always do everything I can to provide Zuko with a home, somewhere he can feel safe and wanted. To me, Zuko is as good as a son and I think of him as such. It is truly a shame that my brother does not see the greatness in that boy."

With his head turned down, Sokka looked up at the older man from the corner of his eye. He'd tried really hard today. He wished Zuko could see what his uncle wanted to do for him. From the kitchen, the tea pot was starting to sing, but when Iroh started to get up, Sokka hurried to his own feet first. "I'll get it," he said, then hesitated a moment. He bent then a little to give Iroh a quick hug around his shoulders before turning to disappear into the kitchen to pour the tea. If anybody deserved it, it was Zuko's uncle.

 


	19. Chapter 19

Zuko wasn't at school the following day and Sokka couldn't concentrate on any of his classes. He kept thinking back to Zuko's panicked face and his angry words and his stomach knotted more and more. Finally at the end of the day, he was sitting in his car, staring at his phone. With a sigh, he gave in and typed a brief message.

_Hey._

It wasn't more than 5 minutes later that Sokka's phone chimed.

_Hey_

Sokka looked at his phone for a long moment, not knowing what to send back. He didn't know what to say. Should he apologize? He didn't feel like he should.

_How are you?_

_Tired,_  was the immediate response, then before Sokka could formulate a response, his phone chimed again.

_Uncle made me stay home today_

_Oh_ , was Sokka's response. Then,  _I took notes for you._

_thanks. do you want to meet somewhere?_

_Sure. Where?_

_the park near Uncle's? do you know it?_

_Yeah. I'll be there in 15._

When Zuko arrived, Sokka was sitting on one of the swings in the playground. It was a gray day so the park was mostly empty. He looked up as the other boy approached. "Hey."

Zuko nodded vaguely, saying nothing until he'd taken a seat in the swing beside Sokka's. His hands stayed in the pocket of his hoodie and his shoulders sagged a little. He hadn't bothered to cover the bruise with makeup before the left Iroh's, and the mark seemed darker against his pale skin than Sokka remembered.

"Hi," he murmured, not quite meeting Sokka's gaze before turning his eyes to the cloudy sky. Maybe it would rain.

For a long moment, neither said anything and the only sound was the squeak of the swingset chains above them. Sokka stared at his feet, feeling sick. There was so many things he wanted to say and knew that none of them were anything Zuko wanted to hear. He swallowed.

"I... I'm sorry we didn't ask you before we did stuff yesterday," Sokka said quietly. He wasn't sorry for what they'd done but it had upset Zuko so much, and for that he was sorry.

Zuko said nothing in reply, not for a long breath. When he did, he spoke to the ground. "You didn't know what would happen." Was it an acknowledgment of Sokka's apology? It was hard to tell from his voice alone, and Zuko still wouldn't look at him.

Sokka shrugged, kicking off with his feet to swing lightly, glancing askance at th other boy. What kept replaying in Sokka's head was Zuko's words from the day before. That he wasn't going to stay with Iroh. Which meant he was going to try to go back to his father. "What are you going to do?" Sokka asked quietly, trying to seem casual.

Zuko shrugged faintly, rocking back and forth with his heels. "Maybe he'll change his mind," he finally mumbled, cringing himself at how desperate the words sounded. Was he? Was he desperate? Maybe. "Maybe he just needs time."

"So... you'd go back?" Sokka asked, trying not to sound incredulous.

Zuko looked up then, mouth twisted in a faint scowl. "That's my  _home_ ," he breathed. "He's my  _father_."

"He doesn't act like he is," Sokka muttered, looking away.

"What do you know about it?" Zuko bit out, hands fisting in his pocket. "You said yourself, your own dad is never even around." It was a low blow and he knew it, but Zuko couldn't help or explain the way his stomach twisted with Sokka's words, the way he felt compelled to defend the man who'd sheltered him, raised him for all his life.

Sokka's jaw tightened with the other boy's words but he controlled the anger that welled in him. If Zuko had been anyone else, if the situation had been any different, he would have punched the other boy in the stomach for talking about his father like that. "Yeah -- but when he  _is_  around he doesn't hit me," Sokka shot back quietly.

"It's not like that!" Zuko snarled, finally turning toward the other boy. "He doesn't...  _beat_  me. I'm not some pathetic kid whose dad beats him up, okay? He had a reason. He never laid a finger on me without a reason!"

"That doesn't make it any better!" Sokka said, looking up with a deep furrow to his brow. He mostly managed to keep from shouting but the emotion roiling in his eyes said more than his raised voice would have. "That's not how a person who loves you should deal with those reasons!"

"He loves me! Why  _wouldn't_  he love me?" Zuko rasped, "I've done everything I can  _think_  of to make him--" He stopped short, breath catching in his throat, face flushed. "...tried so HARD," he whispered, a hand lifting to his face, fingers pressing into pink scar tissue. "I keep messing up."

"You're not messing up, Zuko," Sokka said quietly, leaning against the chain closest to the other boy. His throat felt tight but his words were sure. "He is. You can't see it because you don't want to. But Iroh sees it. Me too."

"What if you're wrong?" Zuko demanded, eyes hardening. "What if you're both wrong? What if all I have to do is apologize, do better in school... and then everything is fine again, and he goes back to how he was before Mom--"

Sokka caught Zuko's hand suddenly with his own, sliding their palms together to hold his hand firmly. "Then that'd be good," he said with a calm but hard voice. "And if you really believe that's possible, then you should do it. If you really think that could happen, then you should try. But if you don't believe, deep deep down --  **know**  that it's possible... then you're just going to tear yourself apart. And your Uncle in the process as he tries so hard to help you."

Zuko squeezed his eyes shut, shook his head, but he didn't pull away from Sokka's hand, and he couldn't shake the truth from Sokka's words. "It's not fair," he breathed, choking through clenched teeth. "I-- didn't do anything wrong. I was... I just-- how could he do this to me, Sokka? I'm his  _son_. How could he?" To even speak the words aloud was like reaching into his own chest and stopping his heart. His words felt like a betrayal, but mostly, he just felt broken.

Sokka gave Zuko's hand a tight squeeze. "It's  **not**  fair," he agreed firmly. "It's bullshit. But maybe it needs time... he's not able to be your dad right now, Zuko but maybe later he can be after you both grow a little more. And that sucks, and it's not fair and I know it must hurt so bad. But you're lucky at least in that you have your uncle who loves you like a son and is ready to help you no matter what. It's not giving up, you know? It's just finding a different path."

Zuko sagged, his bruised cheek pressed against the swing's chain as he let Sokka hold his hand, staring at their joined palms. "I don't know what I'm doing," he confessed quietly. "It's like every thing's falling apart. And I'm just  _angry_  for no reason. I shouldn't have yelled at you and Uncle. But I just feel so... it's like admitting I failed. That I couldn't even make my own father see me like I wanted."

"Yeah..." Sokka said quietly. "But the thing is, you didn't actually fail. Because you never did anything wrong, like you said. But you know, you're strong enough that you don't need him to succeed. And you'd be better off without him hampering everything in your life. And then later you can show him how awesome you've become in  _spite_  of him." Sokka offered a tiny, hopeful smile.

Zuko gave a short rueful laugh of disbelief, sniffing and scrubbing at his good eye, just on the off chance any tears might have been threatening. "I've been so... screwed up. A loser and a jerk," he admitted. "I don't even understand why you still hang around."

"Cause I like you," Sokka said quietly, simply. "You're not a loser or a jerk. You're my friend and you got hurt."

Zuko seemed about to say something, but stopped short, emotion closing his throat as he searched Sokka's face. 'Thank you,' he mouthed, screwing up his face in what was clearly a conscientious attempt at avoiding tears.

Alarm and chagrin flickered over Sokka's features, brows turning up as he squeezed at Zuko's hand and kicked his swing over until his shoulder bumped Zuko's. "Sorry," he said, a little embarrassed at his own show of emotion.

Zuko shook his head. "It's okay," he breathed. "I'm just... Well, I never had much time for friends. It's kind of new for me. So I mean... sorry... if I kind of suck at it."

Sokka laughed good naturedly, his swing jostling Zuko's a bit as he continued to grip the other boy's hand. "You don't," he assured him. "Aang's still ga-ga for you and even the girls like you so I think you're doing it right."

It was so hard not to kick his swing over, to catch the other boy's mouth with his. Just quick, brief, at the apex of the crooked swing. Then let gravity pull him back away, see the surprise on his face. No, instead he just threaded his fingers with Zuko's and it was almost enough to dull the ache in his chest.

"And you?" Zuko asked, his voice all quiet ignorance, though his eyes met Sokka's with something that might have been scraped together courage. "What about you?"

"I already said I liked you," Sokka said, half-mumbling and looked away so that Zuko wouldn't see him blush. Reluctantly, he slid his hand away from Zuko's, instead gripping both chains again. It was too dangerous to talk like this. It wouldn't be fair to Zuko to blurt some stupid confession right then. So suddenly, he was jogging back to let his feet fall out from under him and the swing set creaked as he started the slow pump of gravity that would set him higher. "I like you a lot.” He shrugged, trying to sound macho.

"I like you too," Zuko answered, equally casual as he followed Sokka's lead, lifting his feet to as he began to swing, trying not to wonder too hard at the brief surge of disappointment he'd felt when Sokka's hand had left his.

Sokka felt his chest tighten with the words -- so simple. He hated this. He hated fighting back words and actions that he normally never would have. He had never been one to hold a secret crush. If he liked a girl, she knew it right away with smooth one-liners and flirting and gifts. Keeping those feelings inside made him feel sick half the time when he was around Zuko. Like those feelings were clawing their way through him, demanding to be released. And all that he fed them was guilt – guilt guilt guilt -- because Zuko was hurting so bad and all he could think about was kissing him. Zuko was going through life-changing experiences and all he could think about was asking him out.

"I'm glad," was all he said, though. They saw each other almost every day. There was no reason to 'ask Zuko out', he reasoned. He'd just sound stupid. Zuko would probably laugh at him anyway. Or think that he was some dumb straight guy making fun of him. Or be angry and offended that he'd even suggest something like that after what his father had done when he found out.

They swung in silence for a while, the atmosphere a strange mix of tension and comfort, and Zuko felt like there was something he should say, but he couldn't figure out what it was. Then, "I think it might have been Jet," he blurted, blinking as though surprised he'd spoken aloud.

Sokka blinked, glancing over as they whizzed past one another, going opposite directions. "Huh? Jet?"

"Who told my dad," Zuko clarified, his legs lifting, stilling as gravity slowed his swing.

"What!?" Sokka's feet skidded in a cloud of dirt and bark, stopping his next ascent suddenly. "Why would he do that?" he said, brow suddenly tight with protective anger. But even as he said it, he already knew. Revenge. It was really obvious that Jet had been jealous -- that he'd been trying to get Zuko's attention again, to come between them. Before Zuko could answer, he was seething. "That rotten bastard, you're probably right!"

For his part, Zuko only shrugged, strangely calm in this realization. "I didn't mean to, but I think I really did hurt him." He took a deep breath, kicked at the sand. "I think maybe he thought I could be something I couldn't. But then... I was too messed up myself to heal someone else. I couldn't be what he needed."

"That's no excuse for doing something so low and hurtful!" Sokka said heatedly. "Sometimes things just don't work out, it's not anyone's fault! And it's no reason to try to throw a wrench into somebody's whole LIFE! Grrr--I wanna punch him in his stupid playboy face all over again!"

Surprisingly, the look that Zuko turned on the other boy at that moment was only an embarrassed sort of smile. "Hey, Sokka," he started, and shook his head a little before turning back to his swing. "Don't ever change, okay?"

Sokka was taken off guard enough by this remark that he paused in his raging to blink instead in confusion. "Why would I? I'm pretty awesome."

Now Zuko did laugh. He also reached across the space between them and punched Sokka in the arm on his down swing. "And modest too," he snorted.

"I try," Sokka said loftily, flopping back into his swing to watch Zuko for a moment. Then he said, brain to mouth filter faltering, "I really like it when you laugh."

Zuko blinked, flushing subtly, but looking down in time, he hoped, to hide it. "Yeah well... I guess I can't help it when I'm around you." He really had meant to add something like 'because you're a retard' but it hadn't left his mouth and if he added it now, it would only sound weirder.

Sokka couldn't help but grin at his response and say again, "I'm glad." He paused for a long moment. "Wanna go see a movie?"

"Yeah," Zuko answered. "Let's go."


	20. Chapter 20

The following afternoon found Sokka, Aang and Toph at the mall. Toph had Aang in tow to help her pick out some clothes. She didn't trust Katara not to over-girlify her and try to coax her into tight jeans and frilly tops. The blind girl had grudgingly allowed Sokka to come under the condition that he promised he wasn't going to actually buy anything because Toph didn't want to be at the mall until closing.

Toph's favorite game during shopping was 'How bout this?' in which she grabbed something randomly off a rack and held it up to herself. At the moment, she was holding up a neon green tube top with hot-pink flowers sewn on it. "Well?"

"I think it's very you," Sokka said, stroking his chin seriously.

“Well," Aang put in, snickering a little, "You do look good in green..."

Toph rolled her eyes dramatically. "Nice try, boys. I don't have to see this to know it's hideous. Spandex and silk flowers? This would be tacky no matter what colors it was in. I think I'll get it for Katara."

Both Aang and Sokka burst out laughing at this. "You're such a good friend," Sokka said, wiping away a tear. "If she actually wore it, I'd give you five bucks."

"I bet she'd wear it if Twinkle Toes here gave it to her," Toph suggested, waggling her eyebrows dramatically and shoving the garment into Aang's hands.

Aang blushed to the tips of his ears, fumbling with the hanger and finally replacing it on the rack. "I can't buy a girl clothes!" he protested. "It's too weird."

"Aang wouldn't buy her something that ugly anyway!" Sokka protested, horrified. "He  **likes**  her!"

"You guuuuys," Aang whined, the pink in his cheeks only deepening. "It's embarrassing..." he mumbled, tugging at the hem of his shirt.

"All right then, hotshot," Toph smirked, cocking her hip to the side and aiming a poke for Sokka's chest which landed only a little off center. "Since you're the master of shopping, why don't you tell tell us what  _you'd_  buy for  _your_  boyfriend."

"Well it depends on who my boyfriend is, obviously," Sokka said loftily, answering her teasing with sarcasm. "I wouldn't get the same thing for just anyone. A gift should be tailored."

Toph rolled her blind eyes, but the glint in them hadn't faded and she was not about to be outdone. Least of all by the clown who thought he could beat devastating bluntness with witty sarcasm. "Oh right, 'tailored'," she echoed. "Like a nice pair of slacks. I bet his ass would look grrreat in pinstripes, hm, Loverboy?" She held out both hands at waist level, happily mimed obscenely grabbing for said buttocks.

"Oh, shut up Toph," Sokka scowled, suddenly pouting and devoid of witty come back.

"Hm," the younger girl sniffed, raising a brow. "Well, you're no fun."

For his part, Aang stood there staring between his two friends with clear confusion on his face. "What are you guys  _talking_  about?"

"Nothing," Sokka said quickly, taking Aang by the elbow. "C'mon, let's find Toph some ugly clothes."

"Yeah, fine. Just leave the blind girl on her own," Toph called after them. "I'm going to Claire's to ask the girls there which tacky jewelry goes best with my eyes." She tugged obscenely at her lower lids for emphasis. "Meet you at the food court, bitches!"

"Sokka..." Aang was eying him, concerned and glancing between his two friends. "I'm hungry anyway! Let's go there now!"

Still a little offended and still pouting, Sokka reluctantly followed as Aang heeled after their forceful female friend. By the time they caught up with Toph, she was already standing in front of the food court's cheap Indian food place.

"I want some of that, and some of that, and one of those," she instructed, pointing past the glass display and holding her tray out for the full plate. "No, not that!" she snapped, startling the worker who set down the spoon he'd been holding and began to reach for the one beside it. "Yeah, that one," Toph beamed.

Sokka and Aang watched this over her shoulder, joining her in line. Once they'd all paid and were sitting down to eat, Sokka asked, "Why do you have to torture the nice people?"

"Some people play with their food. I play with the staff," Toph answered as though this were completely reasonable. She took a bite then and grinned. "Oooh, yum, I love their korma. Lucky guess!"

Aang seemed to think it was pretty funny though, laughing as he dug into his own vegetable dish. "Not as good as Gyatso's but they do a decent job for mall food!"

After a beat in which should have been the sound of Sokka tearing into his tandoori chicken, there was silence. Aang looked over at the old boy, alarmed to find him picking lightly at his meal.

Aang glanced over at Toph, forgetting for a moment that he couldn't effectively share a worried glance with the girl, then cleared his throat and looked back to his older friend. "Are you okay, Sokka? You're hardly touching your food."

"Huh? Oh. Yeah." Sokka quickly took a hearty bite. "I just had a big lunch," he fibbed.

"Man, you suck at lying." Toph shook her head as she bit into a toasty piece of naan.

He scowled faintly at her, focusing on his meal -- which was meat and therefore excellent, though didn't quite distract him from his reverie. "Well you suck at ping-pong," he muttered back at her.

Toph shrugged. "No kidding," she snorted.

Aang was frowning hard, pushing his own meal around worriedly. "What's going on?" he queried, as gently as possible. "You can talk to us, you know..."

Sokka glanced up, suddenly feeling rather guilty. Which was just what he needed -- another thing to feel guilty about on the subject that was bothering him. Great. "It--It's nothing, really. I'm just -- worried about Zuko," he formulated and was proud of himself because it wasn't really a lie.

Toph put on her most skeptical look, but for once didn't say anything, only took another large, pointed bite.

"Is he doing any better?" Aang asked. "He doesn't say much at lunch, you know..."

"I know," Sokka said, tearing little pieces of his chicken from the bone. "I think he's doing better, I guess. He finally like... talked about it which he wasn't really doing before so I think that's good. But it's so screwed up. I wish there was something more I could do – I mean, we could do." The group knew that Zuko's dad had kicked him out, though they weren't informed of why.

Aang nodded quietly, thoughtfully. "I guess all we can do is be his friends..."

Toph, however, shrugged and kicked lightly at Sokka's foot under the table, her way of meeting his eye. "What's stopping you?" she asked.

"What?" Sokka said, a little startled. "What do you mean?"

"What's stopping you from doing more?" Toph continued, staring off over Sokka's shoulder.

"Well... I mean..." Sokka stammered a little. "I--I mean, I just don't know what else to do!" It was supposed to be a rhetorical thing, didn't she get it?

Toph sighed. Aang looked confused.

"I hate to break it to you, Baby," Toph shrugged, kicked at Sokka again. "But it's kind of obvious."

"What's obvious?" Aang asked, looking between them.

Sokka was thankful for a moment that Toph couldn't see the way that the color drained from his face or the way his eyes flew wide. "W-what? No it's not!"

"I'd say you'd have to be blind not to notice it, but- - you know." She gestured toward her own face, passing her fingers over her eyes.

Aang frowned, concentration evident on his face.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Sokka said with a scowl, suddenly very interested in his meal and stuffing his mouth. "She's just making another stupid gay joke, Aang.” But in spite of the venom appearing in the back of his voice, his heart was racing. Shit shit shit...

Toph raised her hand to placate. "Hey, I don't joke about serious stuff," she protested, a blatant lie, but delivered with such a straight face that Aang seemed startled. Or maybe it was just because he'd finally added up the bits of conversation to draw his conclusion.

"Are you saying..." He blinked, shifting his gaze from the table to Sokka's rather pale-looking face. "Sokka? Is she saying that you... like Zuko?"

"Ding ding ding!" Toph chimed, a little grin pulling at her lips.

"Shut up, Toph!" Sokka hissed but now his face was heating instead of paling and he felt dizzy with embarrassment. His cover was totally blown. Still, he continued to protest,"She's just joking around, Aang. Like always."

"Oh come off it, Loverboy," Toph protested. "Look, none of us  _cares_  who you like. Right, Aang?"

"Have you told him?" Aang wanted to know, seeming to take Toph's assessment as gospel.

"No I haven't told him!" Sokka squeaked, sitting up and slapping his hands down on the table. "Because it's a stupid rumor that Toph is trying to start to make my life a living hell so that she can eventually trick me into wearing a dress to my prom! When did we start listening to Toph!?"

"Actually, I think Zuko would look better in the dress," Toph piped up, licking masala from her fingers. Aang considered this for only a moment before cheerfully nodding his agreement.

It took a lot of self control for Sokka not to plant his face right into the middle of his rice. Instead he just palmed his face with a groan. "Look, this isn't funny, okay guys? If this rumor actually started, it would be really bad. People are cruel about this kind of thing. And Zuko doesn't need more stupid flack to worry about."

Toph shot him a  _look_  that was only half as effective when she didn't quite meet his eyes. "Okay, I'm sorry, do I look stupid to you? I mean, I can't see myself, so I guess it's possible, but I'm pretty sure I don't look as stupid as that."

"I'm good at keeping secrets," Aang put in.

Sokka looked down at his meal for a long, long moment, willing his stomach to stop churning. Then finally, he muttered, barely audible, down at the table, "I guess I kind of like him."

Toph grinned triumphant and even though Aang looked a little shocked by the actual admission, he recovered quickly. "I think he's a really good guy," the younger boy offered.

"See now? Was that so hard?" Once more Toph kicked him under the table, this time a bit harder-- her way of showing affection.

"Yes, it was so hard!" Sokka snapped, humiliated and glancing at Aang nervously. "What would you know about it, Toph?! Haha, very funny but if some of the guys at school found out, I could get my ass kicked! Look," he continued, looking at Aang again. "I'm not gay. Seriously."

Aang blinked at him for a moment, then shrugged, used to taking the things his friends told him at face-value. "Okay. I mean, it doesn't matter to me either way."

Toph, however, was already rolling her eyes dramatically. "I already said I wasn't gonna tell anyone. Relax."

Sokka looked back down at his food, scowling. "Well... thanks for not being grossed out, I guess," he finally mumbled.

Aang shrugged again. "Liking someone isn't gross."

Sokka almost laughed -- almost. But mostly it came out as just a bemused smirk. He then he looked down at this food again, clearly not interested or ready to continue talking on the subject. Amazingly, Toph actually let it slide and didn't harass him any further. As a sort of thanks, Sokka picked out a shirt for her that actually  _did_  look good and Aang agreed, reassuring the girl that Sokka wasn't trying to sabotage her wardrobe. Sokka gave a ride home to both of the younger kids, first dropping Toph off in the same ritzy neighborhood as Zuko's father's. .

"See you, Ladies!" Toph called, waving as they pulled away from the curb. "Don't get into any trouble without me!"

"Bye, Toph!" Aang called, and turned to settle back into the front seat of Sokka's car. "So..." he began, after a good minute or so of silence. "Do you wanna... get ice cream or something?"

"Huh?" Sokka looked at him carefully for a moment. "Well... sure, okay.” It was easy enough to change direction, taking a detour to a shopping center near their neighborhood where there was an ice cream parlor. It was getting a little late but they were still open and the place was empty. When they settled outside the shop, Sokka was feeling much more at ease, maybe even a little bit relieved that he wasn't keeping a secret locked up so tightly inside anymore.

"Sorry if you... wanted to, you know, be somewhere else," Aang mumbled vaguely, flushing a little as he poked his desert with the plastic spoon. "I just, thought maybe we could... talk a little? 'Cause, I mean, if you can't talk to your friends, who  _can_  you talk to, right?"

"No -- I mean, yes – I mean, I don't want to be somewhere else," he murmured, embarrassed as he took a bite of his cookie dough. He sighed. "I'm sorry for being so defensive earlier."

Aang only shrugged. "It's embarrassing to talk about the person you like sometimes," he mumbled. That much he could definitely empathize with.

"No kidding," Sokka agreed with another sigh. "He doesn't have any idea," he added, not sure what to say. Aang was offering him the chance to talk about it but it all seemed so weird to speak out loud.

For some reason, this seemed to surprise the younger boy. "Really? He doesn't? I mean... well, it's just..." He scratched at his head, wondering how to put his thoughts into words. "You know, usually everyone knows if there's someone you like. And not just, you know, Toph."

Sokka looked at him with wide, alarmed blue eyes. "Did you know?"

"Huh?" Aang blinked back at him, startled by Sokka's reaction. "N-no! I didn't know. I mean, I guess I'm a little dense about that kind of stuff though, so..."

"Oh." He paused to rub at a temple. Why hadn't he been worried about OTHER people finding out until they DID? "Sorry. Yeah... well. I mean, usually I would never try to hide anything... But... I can't really say anything about it, you know?"

"How come?" Aang asked, all innocence. "Is he... I mean, does he not... um, like guys or something?"

"Well.. it's just that... the timing is really bad," Sokka explained, avoiding Aang's question. It wasn't his place to out Zuko to their friends. It was one thing to admit that he had feelings for the other boy but he wasn't going to say whether they had any chance of ever being reciprocated. "He's got a lot he's dealing with right now. It wouldn't be fair to throw this into the mix."

"Don't you think it's a nice thing though? I mean... being told that someone likes you?" It was naive, a simplistic view of things, but there was sincerity in Aang's voice: a careful optimism.

"Sometimes it is. But this situation is complicated, you know? He's just got so much on his plate, he doesn't need one more thing to think about. I really wish I could tell him though," he confided in a mumble.

"Maybe..." Aang considered, thinking hard as he swirled his melting ice cream in the cup. "Maybe it's not so much one  _more_  thing to think about, but something to think about instead of the bad stuff?

Sokka blinked at him. He hadn't thought about it like that. "You don't think he'd just be mad? I mean... doesn't it seem really selfish? I feel like he'd just think I'm a jerk..."

"I don't think he'd be mad," Aang replied, with a shrug. "I dunno if it's selfish or not, but... I guess as long as you aren't pressuring him or demanding an answer back... I think it'd be nice to just hear that someone liked me. You know?"

Sokka was staring down at his ice cream as though he'd never seen something like it before. "But... what if it's awkward after? I mean think like -- think if I told  _you_  I like you. And we hang out every day with that just hanging over our heads? Wouldn't that be weird?"

"Well," Aang considered this, only a little nervous as they delved into things he wasn't entirely sure about. "I guess maybe you'd want to give him some time to think about it? On his own?" He frowned. "I mean, at least he doesn't have someone else he likes already, right?"

"Not that I know of," Sokka said, squirming a little in his seat. He'd done such a good job of convincing himself not to say anything but Aang's words were making him have some serious second thoughts. "But that -- that's the unfair part, right? Because then if he's not comfortable with it, then... every thing's screwed up and I just threw our friendship away."

"If he's not..." Aang wondered. "Do you think he would let it ruin your friendship? Really?" He shrugged, thoughtful. "I dunno... You guys seem like...  _really_ close. It would really surprise me if he wanted to stop being your friend over that...."

Sokka offered him a kind of pained smile. "Yeah... I want to think that. Ugh, I don't know." He planted his elbows on the table, burying his face in his hands. "This is really embarrassing to talk about," he mumbled.

Aang had the grace to look a little embarrassed himself. "Y-yeah, um." He rubbed a hand through his short hair, considering for a moment. "Y-you know, if you want, I could... like.... talk to him, kinda? Just, uh... at least find out if he's... you know... got someone he likes or something..."

"Oh--no, that's okay," Sokka said quickly, looking up. He couldn't imagine that Zuko would be pleased to have Aang suddenly asking about his romantic life. "I-If something's going to happen, I owe it to him to be brave enough to do it myself... you know?"

Aang nodded, secretly just a little relieved to hear Sokka say that. He hadn't been sure how he would have broached the subject anyway. "I think he'd respect that, " Aang offered a little smile, hoping he sounded comforting.

Sokka nodded kind of numbly but when he spoke it was sincere. "Thanks for talking with me, Aang... it means a lot that you're not all freaked out... my sister on the other hand..." He grimaced.

Aang laughed a little uncomfortably. "Katara... is just, um. Well, I think she just wants what's best for you... and you know she's sometimes... slow to trust people. Maybe if you talked to her, though... showed her that you cared about what she thinks... It isn't that you have to do what she  _says_  all the time, just... trust her. I know she wouldn't ever want to see you hurt."

The older boy couldn't help but grin at the way that Aang talked about his sister. If anyone was going to have a serious crush on Katara, he was glad that it was their friend. "Maybe. But I'm still not gonna tell her until I figure things out... cause if I do decide to tell him, I don't want her to kill him before I can get there."

"Y-yeah," Aang grinned awkwardly. "R-right." He took a large bite of his softened ice-cream, leaning on one elbow. "So... um... how did you... I mean. What made you, um... like him?"

Sokka had mostly avoided blushing through this conversation but now his face pinked, and he focused on eating several bites of ice cream as though the chill there would cool his heated cheeks. "I dunno..." he finally said quietly. "It just.. happened. I wasn't really thinking about it. I mean -- when you started bringing him around, I thought he was just a big jerk. But when I started getting to know him -- it's like under that facade he puts up of being all tough, he's this really nice, sweet guy --" Oh god that sounded SO UNBELIEVABLY GAY when he said it out loud. "--I mean, a good person. I didn't even think about it until a few weeks ago, that I just... kept wanting to spend more time with him. And then I was in this shop downtown... and... there were these swords. Like the kind he knows how to use. Really old, fancy, expensive antique swords. And I REALLY wanted to get them for him..."

Aang was watching him, attention rapt as he spooned another bite of strawberry into his mouth. "Did you get them?" he wanted to know, when Sokka trailed off and hesitated just a little too long for Aang's patience.

Sokka bit his lip for a moment and nodded. "Yeah. I used the extra money leftover from my car. And they've been sitting in my closet ever since."

Aang brightened suddenly, leaning forward with a grin. "That's it, then!" he exclaimed. "Why don't you just give him the swords! Then you can see how he reacts! Right? And if it's really good, then maybe you can take it further, right? I mean, if someone gave me such an awesome gift, and I already liked them, it would make  _me_  happy. And maybe if I didn't think of that person like that, you know, I might start thinking about it after they did something so nice. You know?"

The wheels were turning, Sokka's expression one of rapt concentration. "I... I guess I could. You don't think that would just seem like pity? I was going to give them to him... but then all this stuff happened with his family and it seemed like it'd be weird. Just like everything I'm feeling." He sighed but looked up at Aang with a smidgen of hope, as though he wanted to be convinced. "You really think he'd like that?"

Aang grinned. "I really do. And besides, I mean, you got them before all this stuff started happening, right? So it's not like you got them 'cause you feel sorry for him or anything. Just tell him the truth, that you saw them and thought of him. Right? There's nothing weird about that."

"I guess so," Sokka said slowly, thinking about Zuko and his difficulty accepting staying at his uncle's, accepting that room. Maybe that would be easier if he had something that was new and  _his_. "It might be a good idea.”

"I think it is," Aang said, with more confidence that he'd displayed all afternoon. He was relieved too, because finally, he felt like he'd given his friend some good advice, maybe begun to repay Sokka for all the times he'd gone to him looking for help on this or that.

"Do I get to come hide in your basement and become a hermit forever if it goes wrong?" Sokka asked with a joking sort of nervousness.

Aang laughed. "Of course. You can share Appa's bed. I'm sure he'd like the company." Despite his teasing words however, Aang stood and came around the table, bending to wrap his arms around Sokka's shoulders in a tight hug. "Just be yourself," he suggested. "Stuff'll work out."

Sokka wasn't sure he'd ever felt so chagrined in all his life. "Thanks," he mumbled. "You ready to go?"

Aang pulled back with a smile and a nod. "Yeah. I'm ready. Thanks for taking me out for ice cream."

"Like I'd ever turn down ice cream!" Sokka said with a laugh. "Now if they'd only make a beef jerky flavor..."

Aang stuck out his tongue with exaggerated disgust. "Gross!"

"It's okay, I'll request that they make broccoli flavor for you too.”

"I'll let  _you_  taste it first."

 


	21. Chapter 21

The following evening Sokka texted Zuko to see if he could come over to his uncle's house after soccer practice. When Sokka arrived, it was with a package wrapped in brown paper and a visible nervousness to him. "I hope your uncle doesn't think I'm a nuisance," he said, feeling sheepish. "By coming over all the time."

Zuko only shook his head and stepped aside to let him come in. "You aren't a nuisance," he chided. "Besides, Uncle likes having someone to talk Pai Sho Warriors with," he added with a slight, teasing roll of eyes. He seemed in better spirits today, and his bruised face was almost healed now;just a faint dark shadow left of the mark that had looked so terrible just a few days ago. His eyes were drawn to the package Sokka carried, but he didn't ask about it, only shut the door behind them and moved toward the kitchen. "Dinner's almost ready," he said over his shoulder.

"Cool," Sokka said, pausing, thinking, then setting the package down in the corner near the door. "Can I help?"

In spite of his worries, Iroh was as friendly as always, his mood also improved by Zuko's own attitude. Iroh's cooking was excellent as always and Sokka helped set the table and do dishes after the pleasant meal. Things felt like they were getting back to normal, like the sadness that'd hung over the house was starting to heal. After some tea and chat after dinner, Iroh excused himself to retire and left the boys alone.

In spite of the pleasant atmosphere, one nagging voice in the back of Sokka's head had been screaming through the entire meal. _Don't do it, don't do it, don't do it! He's gonna hate them, he's gonna laugh at you, he's gonna be mad for spending so much money on something so useless, he's gonna see right through you and be offended that you could possibly have the audacity to have a crush on him after his father near about broke his wrist for the last relationship he'd had with a boy_ \-- "Um -- I brought something over," Sokka said, nodding to the front room.

Zuko perked curiously, eyes turning toward the other room then back to Sokka. "Yeah?" he asked, turning his mostly empty tea cup in one hand. "What is it?"

"Um -- well -- hang on." Sokka's heart was racing as he stepped out to retrieve the package. When he came back, he handed it to Zuko and sat back down. "It's for you," he said, struggling not to look at the floor and instead be cool and confident. It wasn't a big deal, just a token of friendship.  _So don't screw it up by acting like a queer._  "I--I got it for you a few weeks ago," he said preemptively, for the fear that Zuko would take the token as pity.

"Oh?" Zuko wondered, eyes turning to the brown paper, hands smoothing over it for a moment as he felt the weight. It was familiar somehow. He didn't ask the occasion, but then again, after the first rip, he wasn't able to formulate much thought anyway. The polished wood and brass were the first things he saw, and it was enough to make his breath catch in his throat, and his hands hesitate for just a moment before the tore the paper completely away.

"Sokka?" he breathed, fingers reaching out, tentatively to touch the scuffed lacquer of the scabbard. "Y-you..." He trailed off, lifted the gift from his lap, drew the twin blades half way out, exposing the aged but polished steel. "Oh my god," he whispered, eyes wide. "It's... Sokka, where did you find these?"

"In an shop downtown," Sokka replied in a little bit of a mumble. He felt himself inexplicably embarrassed where in the past, he would have proudly presented a gift to someone who was an object of his affection. "The store owner said they were authentic.” He glanced from his feet and up to Zuko's face, trying not to look anxious.

Zuko nodded dumbly. "Yeah." He slid the blade back into place with gentle reverence, fingers still working over the inlay in the scabbard. "They're... really beautiful," he murmured. "Old... but clearly well cared for. My god." His gaze flickered to Sokka's suddenly, lips parting with a short intake of breath. "How... Sokka, these must have cost... a lot.” He paused, eyes wide. "I--" he began again, quickly, not wanting to seem ungrateful. "I just-- thank you... You don't know-- it... this means a lot. To me."

Sokka ducked his head, rubbing at the back of his neck a little. Now it was just hard not to grin. That's all he wanted -- for it to mean something. Hopefully to make Zuko happy. It didn't even seem to be crossing the other boy's mind that it was an act of pity as Sokka had been so worried about. Thank god. "I'm glad," he said quietly. "I-- I saw them and I just... I couldn't not get them for you. I'm really glad you like them. I mean they're not sturdy enough to  _use_ , but they'll look nice on a wall, I think..."

Zuko leaned forward suddenly, reaching for Sokka's hand to close it in his own, warm, lightly calloused palm. When Sokka looked up, Zuko was biting his lip against a nervous smile. "Thank you," he said again, quieter this time. "I... guess I'm not sure what I did to deserve such a nice thing... but... thank you."

He could feel his cheeks burning pink and he cursed them venomously in the back of his head. But he gave Zuko's hand a squeeze and murmured back, "You were just you. That's the only reason." And he shrugged.

"Thank you," Zuko breathed, and then heard himself say. "For more than just the swords. You've been..." he searched for the right words. "I dunno... just... amazing, I guess. I would have given up on me long ago." He laughed quietly.

Sokka shrugged again. "I'm just in it for your uncle's cooking," he said, offering Zuko a little grin. He felt soothed, in a way. That was one thing that he didn't have to battle himself about anymore. Even though more than ever he wanted to kiss that smiling mouth -- wanted to kiss it more every time he smiled.

And Zuko smiled for him, wider now, shaking his head. "Well, Uncle's cooking  _is_ pretty good." It was only then that he became aware that he still held Sokka's hand, and he started faintly, fingers twitching. He didn't let go though. Something kept him rooted to the spot.

The younger of the pair was silent for a long moment, looking down if only to avoid Zuko's smiling eyes. But neither did he withdraw his hand -- not until he realized that he was stroking lightly at the side of Zuko's hand with his thumb. "I-I probably shouldn't stay late tonight," he finally said, pulling away. If he stayed, he was going to do something that he'd regret. The smile that his gift had brought to Zuko's face was just too thrilling.

The expression that Sokka glanced up just in time to catch might have been disappointment, but it also might have been his own wishful thinking. Either way, Zuko, too, drew his hand back, tucking it under his arm and looking down at the swords in his lap. "I'll be at school tomorrow," he offered, nodding vaguely. "So, I mean, I'll see you then, anyway?" He found himself biting somewhat nervously at his lip.

"Right," Sokka agreed quickly, fighting with his fingers that wanted to dart to snatch back the warm grip of Zuko's hand. Aang's advice was still ringing in his ears and making his stomach feel heavy. But even if telling Zuko about his feelings might make the other boy happy, he couldn't get past his own fears. Thinking about that rejection was too much for him to bear -- too embarrassing, too painful. "Thanks for letting me over," he mumbled, unmoving.

"You're always welcome here," Zuko answered back, "I know Uncle thinks so too." The older boy fidgeted faintly, aware of and feeling the strange tension in the atmosphere, hanging around them both, but unsure what to do to dispel it.

"Thanks," Sokka repeated, glancing up to offer Zuko a little smile before he finally stood. He hesitated and added quietly, "I'm really glad you seem to be feeling a little better." He knew it would be a long process to heal from everything that had happened but Sokka was at least glad to see the other boy able to smile a little here and there. "I'll pick you up tomorrow?"

Zuko nodded, following Sokka to his feet, still holding the swords as they left the table. He walked with the other boy to the foyer, then closed the door behind them both as they paused outside on the front step.

"Maybe," Zuko began, after their shared silence grew just a little too awkward. "Maybe you could come over again, you know, whenever, to help me hang these on the wall?"

With a nod and a grin, Sokka readily agreed. "Definitely! Later this week?"

"Whenever you're free," Zuko answered, just a little embarrassed and hefted Sokka's gift higher in his arms. "I know you've got stuff after school so, yeah. That's good."

"Cool," was the best that Sokka could come up with, and then realized it was really time to go because the longer he stayed, the more tempting it was to kiss Zuko good-night on his front porch. "See you tomorrow!" he called over his shoulder with a wave, keys jangling in his hand.

When Zuko stepped back into the house, he heard movement in the kitchen and a peek around the corner found his uncle back at the stove with his faithful teapot. "Is your young friend leaving so early tonight, Zuko?" Iroh inquired with a glance toward his nephew.

"Y-yeah," Zuko answered, stepping into the kitchen. Only when he stood beside his Uncle at the stove did he realize he still carried the swords. "He had... homework, I guess," he added, casual as he could manage.

"I was just making some relaxing tea before bed," Iroh told him, eying the boy with a smile. "What do you have there, Nephew?"

Zuko glanced down as though surprised, coloring a little as he held out Sokka's gift for Iroh's inspection. "Shuangdao broadswords," he mumbled, "From Sokka."

Iroh's brows arched as he turned over the single, wide scabbard in his hands, inspecting the detailed craftsmanship. "Beautiful," he remarked and pulled the blades out enough to see. "Clearly very antique but well taken care of. What a lovely gift." He handed the swords back to Zuko as the kettle started to steam. "Will you join me?" His brows lifted hopefully as he gathered his things.

Zuko nodded quietly and followed his uncle to the front room where he gently placed the gift in one of Iroh's worn recliners before he took a seat beside him on the sofa. He thanked the older man with a murmur as he took the offered tea and held it under his nose, waiting for it to cool enough to drink. Zuko wasn't particularly  _fond_  of tea, but once in a while it seemed like the right idea to accept Iroh's offers.

The older man sighed contentedly as he sank into the welcoming cushions of the couch. He blew lightly on his tea, closing his eyes as he breathed in the aroma. "What do you suppose you'll do with them?"

"I-- I asked Sokka to help me hang them," Zuko breathed, barely above a whisper. "In m...my room," he finished, sneaking a quick, nervous glance at Iroh. He was fully aware of what his own words meant. And it wasn't easy to say them. But Sokka had been right to remind Zuko of everything his uncle had done for him. And maybe it was time to finally start appreciating it.

Iroh smiled softly, eyes still closed and he was silent for a long moment. "They will look very nice in your room," he finally said quietly and opened his eyes to give Zuko a warm smile that conveyed his pride. "I just want you to know, Nephew... I know that your father has made this difficult for you... but as long as you need to stay here, you are free to be yourself. As long as you are safe!" he hastened to add. "And if you need that sort of thing, just tell me."

Zuko stared at his uncle for a long time, brow furrowed, face dark with clear confusion. "If I need any...huh?" He stared, suspicious but still hoping for clarification. And then it clicked. And Zuko flushed dark as a beet from brow to throat, almost dropping his tea cup as he startled. " _ **UNCLE!**_ " he choked, "What... what do you think--? I-- I don't... I'm not... It's not... oh man..." It was all he could do to set aside his tea and bury his face in his hands, mortified beyond all reason. How had his uncle formed such an idea, anyway? Because of Jet? But that had been something else. An exception. A strange, confusing part of his recent life. Hadn't it? And it had been totally different than now, than the time he spent in Sokka's company, wasn't it? Of course it was. Though, really, no less enjoyable... being around Sokka was a lot better in some ways, honestly...

Innocent blinking answered Zuko's humiliation, and Iroh looked on curiously. "Why are you so distressed, Zuko? You don't have to be embarrassed with me," he chided affectionately. "You know I like your friend very much. And I'm glad to see you finding someone that makes you happy and treats you well."

Zuko groaned , though his flush was not eased by the kindness with which Iroh treated his misconceived relationship. "Uncle," he took a deep breath, intended to look the older man in the eye but found he couldn't quite manage it. "We're not..." He gestured vaguely, desperately, "you know!" What made him think so, anyway? Zuko frowned. Sokka did, of course, treat him well. Too well, Zuko sometimes thought, a little guiltily. But, happy? Did Zuko really seem happier around the other boy? "It's not like that," he mumbled. "We're friends." And that was enough, he reminded himself, forced himself to remember what had happened the last time he let himself open up to someone more than that. Both he  _and_ Jet had been hurt by it.

"Really?" Iroh said, feigning surprise. "From the time you have been spending together and the way that Sokka spoke of you the other day -- when we had our little... outing to your father's... I thought perhaps he was seeking my permission." The older man shrugged and sipped at his tea. "I suppose even my intuition can be incorrect at times."

Despite his best efforts not to be, Zuko found himself suddenly interested. And though he cursed himself quietly for his curiosity, he still heard himself ask, "What did he say about me?"  _Dangerous_ , a part of him warned.  _Uncle is rarely ever_ _wrong_ , another, tentative part reminded. "I mean, what made you... um, think that?"

"He just spoke very highly of you," Iroh said with a noncommittal shrug. "About how important your friendship is to him. It seems he was having somewhat troubled times before he met you. Sometimes just having someone you can feel close to makes all the difference at times like that."

Zuko sank back into the sofa, drawing his knees up as he considered this. "Yeah," he agreed, quietly. "I guess I know how that feels." Then, "But... that's what friends are supposed to do, right?" he continued, treading unsteady ground. "So why did you think...?" He wasn't sure why he wanted to know. He wasn't sure what he'd do with the information even if he had it. He did know he couldn't bear to see Sokka tread the same sad path that Jet had.

Iroh watched him for a moment, bemused over the edge of his tea cup for a long moment as he took a few more sips. "Well," he said thoughtfully, with a tiny smile that told Zuko he was trying not to tease. "I did find you sleeping quite closely on the couch last week..."

Zuko flushed all over again, this time reaching forward for his tea, trying to appear unconcerned as he took a sip of the now nearly cold drink. "Oh, that," he nodded once, and rubbed at the side of his cheek. "Um. That was just... we fell asleep there, you know?" It'd been nice though, he remembered from half-coherent memories of Sokka's weight and warmth.

"Ah," Iroh said with an understanding nod. "I see. Well, I'm sorry if I embarrassed you, Nephew. Things are very different now from when I was a teenage boy!" He laughed.

Zuko grimaced faintly, not really interested in being regaled with tales of his uncle's youthful virility. "It's okay. More surprised than embarrassed, really," he added, though they both knew he was mostly lying. Then, after a brief silence, he continued, more seriously. "Do you think it was alright for me to accept his gift?"

"Hmmm," Iroh considered with a faint chuckle to himself. "Why would it not be?"

"Well, they were really expensive," Zuko answered, "At least they must have been. And... and what if he  _does_  you know..." Again, Zuko gestured, looking for the right way to avoid saying what he had to say. "And what if it turns out-- I mean, what if I just  _can't_... you know. I mean, I don't know, and then I've taken this amazing present from him and then I'm just a huge jerk again," he finished somewhat lamely, with a sigh that stirred the surface of his tea.

"Zuko!" Iroh laughed in a kind way, giving his nephew's shoulder a bracing squeeze. It was almost nice to see him distressed over something so human and teenage and ordinary rather than the other ails that had been pressed upon him in the past. "A gift is a gift, there should not be expectations. Your friend gave you a gift in hopes of making you happy and it seems you are, therefore he got what he hoped for. If he has feelings for you that you don't reciprocate, that doesn't make you a bad person. And I'm sure that your friendship is strong enough to survive such a thing."

Zuko heaved a troubled sigh and slumped against his uncle's shoulder. "You said I can be myself here, but the truth is, I can't even figure out what that means. I'm confused."

"The most difficult thing in life can be discovering who you are," Iroh said gently, understanding. "And there are many factors in your life that aim to complicate this process even further. You sound specifically torn though, Zuko. What's troubling you on this subject? You don't have to try to protect your fragile uncle's sensibilities either -- I've seen and heard much stranger things than you think you might be able to tell me!"

Zuko hesitated. Despite his uncle's strong assurances, it wasn't such a simple thing to just talk about, well anything, never mind stuff like  _this_. "It... it doesn't feel the same," he tried, mumbling as he smoothed his palms across his knees. "As Mai or Jet. But I don't know what that means. I don't know if means things won't turn out badly, or if they'll be even  _worse_. He's the best friend I've had in as long as I can remember and I'm scared I'll mess it up. But I can't figure out what  _I_  feel, let alone what  _he_  feels. And even if I knew, I still don't know what I should do with it!"

"I think, perhaps, Zuko, that you feel different now because in the past you were making decisions through different reasoning. Either for the sake of doing the right thing -- or doing the wrong thing. The difference now is that you are not pressed to obey or disobey anything. This is very different from the pressures and restraints that have been placed on you in the past," Iroh mused. "But is there anything that is pressuring you to act one way or the other?"

"I--" Zuko began, but then fell silent. "I don't know. Like what? Maybe? I can't stand to think of him being hurt, but I don't know what would hurt him more in the long run..." His face was hot, and he was definitely a little dizzy from allowing so much unfiltered honesty to pass his mouth. "And then I feel like a jerk to even be  _thinking_  that he might... you know, feel something, when really, it's just as likely that I'm completely imagining it and then--"

Iroh laughed again, patting Zuko on the back. "There are times, Zuko, when I do not envy you for your youth. You are in a very difficult and often awkward time of your life. But! My advice to you is this. It is my impression from observing your friend that he is not particularly good at suppressing his desires. I have a feeling that it will not take too long for you to learn one way or the other if what he feels is friendship or something more. But why do you feel bad for thinking that he might? You are a very handsome and charming young man! It's no surprise that you'd be the object of affection of both boys and girls, that just runs in the family!"

Zuko blanched faintly, mentally crossing his fingers that Iroh would spare him any stories of his own youthful experimentation. He spoke quickly, just in case his uncle was planning on continuing with the train of thought. "It's just... It would be really really embarrassing if I made a fuss about it and then it turned out that there wasn't even anything there, you know?" Still, he supposed that Iroh was right. Sokka wasn't any good at hiding his emotions for long. His poker face was fine at first, but then he tended to forget himself and lay it all out for others to see. "I guess I should wait..." He sighed. He still didn't know what he would do if Sokka  _did_  confess though, and that unsettled him more than anything.

"In the meantime, just do what feels right," Iroh said with a pat to Zuko's arm. "Let what you  _feel_  guide you, rather than what you  _think_. That's what will make you both most happy."

"You always sound so sure of everything, Uncle," Zuko mumbled. "Like everything is easy."

"Oh, I know it's not easy, Nephew. But if you sound like it is, people will think you're smarter!"

Even then, Zuko couldn't help the quirk of a smile that came to his lips. He shook his head, sighing only a little dramatically. "Are you sure you should be telling me all your secrets?"

"What good is wisdom if it can't be passed along!" Iroh said with a laugh. "In forty years, you'll sound just like me!"

"If Azula ever has a kid, he's probably gonna  _need_  the advice of a wise uncle to survive childhood," Zuko mused. "So I guess I should be taking notes."

Iroh nodded gravely. "See, you are already getting wiser."

"It's all thanks to you, Uncle." Zuko turned to offer a little bow, and although his mouth was curved in a wry sort of smile, both of them knew the words rang with truth.

 


	22. Chapter 22

That weekend found things returning to some sense of normalcy. The gang got together to go to the mall and after a while of killing time, Zuko and Sokka split off to go catch a movie that the others had already seen earlier that week. Meanwhile Katara dragged Aang and Toph off to do some clothes shopping and Sokka looked on with pity at the mixture of horror and delight when she told Aang she wanted his help in picking out an outfit.

"What's this movie about again?" Zuko asked as they stood in the slowly creeping line, preparing to part with eleven dollars a ticket plus another fifteen for snacks.

"Robots," Sokka replied with a shrug. "That's all I need to know." When they got to the counter, Sokka nudged Zuko aside and coughed. "I can get it." And before the other boy could even protest, he was slipping his money past the barrier.

Zuko blinked, surprised, but caught enough off guard that by the time he thought to protest, Sokka was already pressing a ticket into his hand. "O-okay, but I'll get the popcorn," he insisted as they moved toward the entrance.

Sokka nodded, feeling inwardly victorious and then immediately very silly for doing so. Mostly it was that he knew Zuko would have less money to throw around now that he wasn't living with his father and Sokka still had his part time job on weekends. AND even after buying the swords with his extra car money, he still had the money he'd saved for Suki's plane tickets. When it came down to it -- though he wouldn't quite admit it to himself -- there was very little recently that he could want more to spend money on than Zuko.

As he and Zuko walked across the theater lobby, a very cheerful girl dressed in eye soring pink jumped in front of them, jerking Sokka out of his reverie.

"Hey!"

Zuko startled and then stared. "Ty Lee?" he gaped, then immediately searched the lobby for his sister or Mai. "What are you doing here?" There was no sign of the two other girls, and his pulse slowed a little, but he still stayed alert.

Meanwhile, Ty Lee was looking at him like he'd hit his head. "I'm here to see a movie, silly. What else do you do at movie theaters?" Still, even as she spoke, her gaze flitted to the other boy accompanying him.

Sokka blinked at her when she smiled at him, feeling inexplicably embarrassed. "Um. Hi."

"Who's your cute friend, Zuko?" Ty Lee asked, still smiling her cherub smile. But then she pressed her fingers suddenly to her lips with a gasp. "Oh my god, is this the boy that Azula said you were having 'inappropriate relations' with? You have surprisingly good taste!"

Zuko could only gape at her, red to his ears in an instant. He absolutely could not look over at Sokka, and for a moment, he couldn't even speak. Then everything caught up with him and he blurted his protest. "N-no! That's not it. This.. this is my friend from school, Sokka." He scowled a little then, face still pink, crossing his arms. "A-anyway, Azula always lies, you know that."

"Sometimes, yeah," Ty Lee said thoughtfully, then shrugged. "So does that mean you're not taken?" She addressed Sokka with a returning, glinting smile. Before he could answer though, she was taking his elbow, tugging him toward the concession stand. Sokka followed dumbly, glancing a little nervously at Zuko as she prattled, "What movie are you seeing?"

"Um-- the robot movie," Sokka managed to supply, blushing a little.

Zuko scowl deepened as he followed, though he tried not to think about this too hard. When he caught up, he did his best to casually wedge himself between them in the crowded push of the snack line. "So..." he began, drumming his fingers on a crossed arm when Ty Lee stood in his way. "Speaking of, where  _is_  my sister?"

"She and Mai are still in the movie," Ty Lee replied, seeming oblivious to the fact that Zuko was trying to work his way between them. Her arm looped through Sokka's, held fast. "Wanna buy me some Jujubees?" she asked cheerfully of the dark skinned boy. "I love your hair. It's so cute."

Sokka flushed in earnest this time, not really used to getting such focused and determined attention from a girl. Usually he was the one doing the lavishing. "O-okay," was all he could think to say. "Should we go if your sister's here...?" Sokka asked of Zuko.

Zuko shook his head, distracted for a moment by the way the perky girl was twirling the end of Sokka's pony tail around a finger. "I don't care," he frowned. "We aren't seeing the same movie anyway." In truth, running into Mai would be equally uncomfortable as seeing his sister, and if he could avoid both, he'd have preferred it. Then, to Ty Lee and with just a little more acid, "Don't you have something better to do than extort cute guys for candy?"

"No," Ty Lee replied innocently. "The movie's kind of boring. Can I come watch yours?" She giggled, putting both hands on Sokka's shoulder and resting her chin on them.

It took a great deal of self-control for Zuko not to snap at the girl. A sharply delivered 'no' was ready on his tongue before he swallowed it and took a breath instead. "Don't you think you should get back before Azula and Mai start wondering where you disappeared to?"

Ty Lee just shrugged, turned her face to sniff briefly at Sokka's hair. "They're busy. Oh, you smell yummy! What sort of cologne do you wear?"

"H-huh?" Sokka turned to blink at her, finding her startlingly close, their noses all but brushing. He jerked back a little. "Oh -- uh -- I don't -- it's just a... like a body wash..." he stammered, then realized they were at the front of the line and surged forward. Ty Lee laughed and caught the strap of his messenger bag to come with him. "I-- I guess I'll just get this, okay, Zuko?" He looked over his shoulder, a little worried at this turn of events. Still, he got the popcorn and Ty Lee's jujubees and a soda for him and Zuko to share.

Ty Lee was still trailing when they left the concession stand and perked when Sokka put two straws in the drink. "Oh, did you get that for us to share? I knew you were sweet when I saw you! Which theater is it?"

The straw was the last that Zuko could handle, and though he wasn't quite sure where it came from, he felt a sudden determination well up. "Okay... no," he breathed and stepped forward, gently but firmly prying Ty Lee's grip from Sokka's arm. "Here is your candy," he said, civil but just a little icy as he plucked the box from Sokka's hand and placed it in Ty Lee's. "The soda is for  _me_ , and  _your_  theater is somewhere down that way." He indicated with a vague wave.

Ty Lee's big brown eyes blinked at him for a moment before the pout appeared. "Greedy," she accused, then gave a high pitched huff and shrugged. "Fine. Bye, Sokka! My number should be in his phone," she added with a wave and a wink. And then she turned away and they watched as she did a cartwheel down the hall for no good reason, startling several movie patrons.

Sokka stared, boggling. "What just happened?"

"Ty Lee happened." Zuko stared after her with a scowl. "One of my sister's friends. She's... interesting, I guess." He didn't really have the desire to try and come up with some way of explaining Ty Lee. Anyway, what mattered was that with her departure, his heart rate could return to something resembling normal.

"She's cute, but apparently insane?" Sokka asked, arching a brow as he nudged the other boy toward their theater.

"Just pushy," Zuko corrected. "And used to getting her way." He frowned a little as he followed Sokka, running a hand through his hair as he waited for his nerves to calm. What had gotten into him? Ty Lee was a flirt, that was just how she was. It hadn't ever really bothered Zuko before. He'd hardly paid attention to it. But now, when it was Sokka she'd turned her sights on, he felt... a pointed sort of irritation that he wasn't familiar with. It wasn't jealousy, he told himself. He knew Ty Lee was rarely serious in her pursuits and he knew Sokka well enough to know he'd grow tired very quickly of a girl so clingy and demanding on both his attention and his wallet. It couldn't be jealousy, but what then?

"Oh," Sokka said as they ducked into the theater. The previews were playing as they found seats and settled. "Here," he whispered with a grin in the flickering light as he handed the soda to Zuko. "The straw  _was_  for you."

Zuko smiled, took the cup and felt his nerves settle. "Yeah," he agreed, surprised to find how pleased this admission made him. "Thanks. I'll... cover you next time, okay?"

"Okay," Sokka whispered readily, another smile offered easily. Then they were settling into their seats and while the preview were still going, he leaned close to whisper again. "I bet my sister is making Aang decide between five blue shirts for her right now."

Zuko chuckled quietly, his eyes on the screen, but leaning closer to whisper back, "As long as Toph is with them I'm sure they'll pick something good."

Sokka snickered and whispered, "I think we got the better date. We even avoided the third wheel."

For a moment Zuko couldn't answer because of the strange way his throat closed on itself. Then he swallowed and forced a cough. "But I thought you liked shopping?" he replied, trying to tease.

"Not for girl's clothes!" Sokka shot back, bumping his shoulder into Zuko's in protest.

Zuko laughed quietly, easing back into his chair as yet another preview began. "I'm telling Toph you called her a third wheel, by the way."

"Why do you hate me?!" Sokka hissed frantically.

"I don't hate you," Zuko purred. "I just like the look on your face when Toph beats you up."

"Sadist," Sokka pouted, flicking a piece of popcorn at the other boy.

"That's the one," Zuko grinned, plucking the bit of offending food from his lap. "That's the look." He reached over then to help himself to his own handful of popcorn.

Sokka scowled then and flopped back against his seat as the warning to turn off cell phones came up on the screen. "You win this round."

"Point for me," Zuko preened quietly as he pulled his own phone out, tapping a few buttons to switch the phone to silent.

Sokka settled in, only pouting a little as the opening credits came up. In a way, the movie theater provided the worst sort of temptation. Sokka tried not to think about the flirting joke he'd cracked moments earlier, inwardly embarrassed over the wishful thinking behind it. And sitting in the dark with only a chair-arm (which was easily put up) between them, his shoulder itched to lean closer. If there had been anyone on either side of them it would have been an excuse -- it was more comfortable to share space with each other than with strangers.

It was with these thoughts distracting him from the movie when he felt Zuko's hand fall on his -- and he realized he'd left it hovering over the popcorn for a long moment. "Er-- sorry," he murmured to the other boy.

"S'okay," Zuko answered quickly as their hands parted, and he thanked the theater's dim lighting that effectively hid the flush that sprang to his cheeks. He shook his head faintly; apparently their run-in with Ty Lee had set him more on edge than he'd thought. After that, every time he reached for the bag it was with slow, careful movements, his pulse thumping in the anticipation of accidentally meeting hands and the strangest combination of relief and disappointment every time he found only popcorn under his fingers.

Sokka found himself kind of thankful when the popcorn was empty and the bag set aside, if only for the anxiety that it relieved. But then about halfway through the movie, he noticed that Zuko had put his arm on the rest between them. And he couldn't keep his eyes from flickering back to it every few minutes, considering -- weighing -- contemplating -- panicking at his own thoughts. But then he managed to muster all of his courage and rested his own arm there as well, setting it alongside Zuko's so that they touched lightly from elbow to pinky.

It wasn't weird enough to pull away from; sharing an arm rest didn't have to  _mean_  anything, after all. But it was enough to distract Zuko from the movie so that when a particularly startling moment occurred on screen, he hardly noticed, offering little if any reaction to the decapitation of a pretty girl by one of the robots gone rogue.

Sokka meanwhile cringed a little, grimacing at the spray of blood on screen, characteristically torn between the awesomeness of over-the-top violence and the grotesque and messy aftermath. A moment after that though, he was sneaking a glance at Zuko, only to find the other boy looking at him from the corner of his own eye. Sokka was suddenly glad for the darkness when he jerked his gaze back to the screen, face heating. Embarrassed to have been caught, Zuko too, turned his attention forward, watching the movie but wondering what he was doing. He thought back to Iroh's words, to try and let his feelings dictate his actions instead of over-thinking everything. But at the moment, his feelings were a jumble, colored with the faint nausea that came from having eaten more than half a bag of heavily buttered popcorn.

Even through this, Sokka stayed his hand and their arms were still touching. When he shifted his fingers, his pinky brushed against Zuko's. It would have been the tiniest movement to put his hand over the other boy's, to twine their fingers together. But without the excuse of offering comfort or thanks as it had been in the past, he couldn't justify it. The movie wasn't that great so it was easy to be distracted by the warmth touching him and in spite of the mediocrity of it, he was disappointed when it was over. They were quick in getting out of the theater in case Zuko's sister and her friends were still around.

"Pretty lame, huh?" Sokka said as they stepped back into the mall. "At least the graphics were good."

"Yeah," Zuko agreed, trying to remember which visuals Sokka was referring to and being distracted by the lingering taste of popcorn in his mouth. He rubbed at his arm, still faintly tingling after having fallen asleep from remaining firm and tense on the armrest for half the movie. "So... um. Are you hungry?" he finally asked, as casually as he was able.

"I thought you knew me better than that by now," Sokka said with a cocked brow and a smirk. "But... we're supposed to be meeting up with the others in, like, twenty minutes."

"Oh, right," Zuko pulled out his phone to turn the ringer back on and check the time. "Can you wait till then?" he asked, a smirk on his lips. "Or are you gonna waste away?"

"I dunno I only ate like six pounds of popcorn!" Sokka lamented, grabbing at the shoulder of Zuko's sleeve as though to keep himself on his feet. "I feel faint..."

Zuko laughed and plucked Sokka's arm up, slinging it over his shoulder to offer the exaggerated support to the 'ailing' boy. "I'll buy you a pretzel," he offered. "We've got time for that, come on."

Sokka's laugh echoed Zuko's, leaning into him and letting the other drag him toward the food court. "I don't know if I'm gonna make it," he moaned, head flopping into the curve of Zuko's shoulder. He briefly reflected over the fact that when they were playing around, this sort of contact didn't make his nerves fray. It gave him no fewer butterflies in his stomach, but he wasn't  _terrified_  like in the dark of a movie or sitting on Zuko's couch.

"Don't you give up on me, soldier," Zuko ordered, pitching his voice into deep, demanding gravel as he pulled him along. "Besides, your sister would kill me if I let anything happen to you."

"Oh god -- I can see the light --" Sokka whimpered, though it was challenging as he was trying not to laugh. His full weight dragged against Zuko's strength, his other hand coming up to clutch at the front of the other boy's shirt. "Don't forget me!"

As it happened, by the time they finished bringing each other to tears -- earning many stares from other mall patrons -- and actually made it to the food court, their friends were already waiting.

"Sokka! Zuko! Over here!" Aang waved from a cluster of tables near the Mongolian barbecue.

Sokka startled, still with his arm around Zuko's shoulder. He jerked away from the other boy to dart through the tables, offering his most innocent grin when his sister raised an eyebrow at him. "Hey! How was shopping?"

"Oh, just fine," Katara answered, her gaze passing briefly over Zuko's casually neutral face before continuing. "Aang helped me pick out a new shirt and Toph made a complete nuisance of herself." Behind her, Toph offered Sokka a thumbs up and a shit-eating grin.

"How was the... ah, movie?" The younger girl cut in then, giving Sokka a subtle wink and a punch to the hip which they'd more or less figured was a sign of affection.

"Pretty crappy," Sokka replied with a shrug. "But we ran into some friend of Zuko's sister and she put the moves on me hardcore," he added, rarely able to resist an opportunity to boast even if the girl had been kind of scary.

Zuko rolled his eyes. "If by 'putting the moves on' you mean making you buy her stuff."

Toph gasped. "A real life biological girl? Who doesn't wear orc armor and beat up fantasy animals for fun? I don't believe it."

Katara just arched her brows, unimpressed, while Aang blinked, confused by the parallel between this information and the conversation he'd had with Sokka over ice cream.

"No, seriously!" Sokka protested. "She was all over me! She was playing with my hair and everything! Which apparently is 'cute', by the way," he bragged slyly.

"Oh, I've always thought your hair looked super cute!" Toph piped up, while Zuko frowned, but said nothing.

"Thank you, To---GOD DAMMIT YOU ALWAYS DO THAT!"

The entire gang couldn't help but laugh at the boy's expense but Aang grabbed him by the arm, leading them toward food. "C'mon, you can have your  _best_  girlfriend now! Meat!" he consoled the pouting boy.

"I don't know if that's a good thing!" Sokka whined but he did not object to being able to fill a bowl entirely with various types of meats, earning him a look from the cook behind the counter.

As they sat back down with piles of noodles, Toph elbowed Zuko who was beside her. "By the way -- my parents said they would give you a ride home. I'm a lot closer to you than these guys."

Zuko blinked, surprised, but thankful as he chewed around a rather too-large bite and swallowed before answering. He looked across the table at Sokka and shrugged. "Yeah, sure. That'd be great. Thanks, Toph."

"Don't mention it," she grinned. "Actually, do. That way I remember to cash in on a return favor later."

The food court was always a great place to hang out because they could be as loud and obnoxious as they wanted, voices lost in the din, and that night was no exception. By the time they'd finally finished their meal, the mall patrons were growing thinner and Toph called her parents as they left the mall and parted ways with the siblings and Aang.

And then came the silence. The awkward, awkward silence as Toph and Zuko settled in on a bench in front of the mall. It lasted about a minute before Toph spoke up.

"So are you gonna ask him out before that bimbo from the movies dives into his pants?"

Zuko's reply was a more or less semi-articulate, "Eeeeeeaahh?" He turned toward Toph, wide-eyed and red-faced, his expression completely wasted on her. "What are you-- I mean... um, that is--"

"I was sitting next to you -- I felt the way your butt cheeks clenched when he started talking about it," Toph said, brutal and unimpressed. "And if you think you're fooling anyone else -- HI I'M BLIND AND I FIGURED IT OUT."

Zuko scowled deeply, looking away from the younger girl while he tried to sort out his thoughts. "Most people can't  _feel_  the vibrations of clenching muscles," he snapped back. "And anyway, just because I don't like the idea of Sokka and Ty Lee together doesn't mean I want to ask him out! It just means that I know that girl and I know she'd be terrible for him. I like his company, yes, but that's not enough to prove that... well you know." Zuko closed his mouth rather abruptly as he realized he was rambling. The truth was, he  _wanted_  to hear what Toph had to say under her teasing. If she'd really noticed something significant.... Something that might convince him where his own feelings really lay.

"Uh huh," Toph said and tossed her bangs. "Okay, Fancy Pants. How about the fact that you laugh louder at his jokes than anyone else's? His jokes aren't even FUNNY!"

"How about I'm just nicer than you?" Zuko argued. "And anyway, his jokes aren't  _that_  bad..."

"The endless time you spend together, including skipping school together and 'manly sleepovers'?"

"That's just... incidental. He's just... being there for me. Like good friends do," Zuko insisted, but his words were beginning to hesitate. He did look forward to Sokka's visits kind of a lot...

"And what about the rumors I've heard about you protecting him from Jet?"

Zuko faltered. "J-Jet... Jet is... complicated. But I couldn't let Sokka get hurt because of my past mistakes..."

This gave Toph pause, a brow lifting. But just as she opened her mouth to speak, a sleek luxury car pulled up in front of them and Toph's mother waved from the front seat. When the car was pulling onto the road, Toph spoke up in sweeter a voice than Zuko had ever heard from her.

"Mom, is it okay if Zuko and I go get boba over by the house? Zuko will walk me home after."

Toph's mother hesitated, glancing in her rear-view mirror at the scar faced young man in her back seat, at least four years senior of her young, blind daughter. "Toph, you know our rules about boys--"

"He's gay."

Zuko coughed harshly, found himself once again staring at the younger girl with an expression of shock he knew she couldn't appreciate. When the silence stretched just a little too long, Toph gave a subtle but painful pinch to the side of his leg and Zuko jumped to attention.

"Uh, yeah. R-right," he stumbled over his words, smoothing his hands nervously on his jeans. "I-I'll look after Toph, Mrs. Bei Fong," he assured the woman who was giving him a suspicious look, not adding that the younger girl would no doubt be able to more than hold her own in any sort of trouble they ran into. "You won't have to worry about a thing."

"Well... all right. But no more than an hour, okay?"

"Thanks mom," Toph chirped sweetly.

Toph's mother dropped them off at the cafe and Toph got them each a drink, then shoved Zuko over to a corner table. "Sit your butt down." She felt out her own chair quickly and flopped into it. "Don't get me wrong, I could care less about matchmaking. I'm not Katara. But I'm getting sick of all the unresolved sexual tension floating around."

Zuko considered this quietly for a moment, sipping at his tea. "Okay, you want honesty? To be honest with you... I don't know how I feel. I've had... other relationships, but nothing that felt the same so I... I don't know. I don't even know if I should be thinking about this at all." He paused. "Does it really seem like... I like him?"

"Not as much as I was saying, I just wanted you to admit something," Toph replied with a shrug. "It's not OBVIOUS, but it's a little suspicious. Probably a lot more so to sighted people. What it seems like is that you guys get along better than just about anyone I've ever seen Sokka interact with, you're nicer to the dork than anyone we know, and you spend more time together than some married couples do. So what I'd say is that if I knew that you had any interest whatsoever in the peen, I'd say it seems like you like him."

Zuko flushed faintly at the straightforward way Toph spoke, but he nodded, then coughed and said aloud, "O-oh." He took a moment to swirl his straw, watching the tapioca bubbles spin in the dark red tea. "I guess that makes sense."

"What's that crap about not knowing if you should 'even think about this'?" Toph gave his chest a skeptical look as she sipped her drink.

"Well, I mean, even if he did... you know, and I decided that yeah, I could try it... well isn't just gonna seem like... I mean, he's been so supportive and just  _there_  for me lately when I needed it... wouldn't it just seem like I was... taking advantage of that?" Zuko gestured helplessly, awkwardly.

Toph was silent for a long, long moment. "Do you people hear yourselves when you talk? Because sometimes I  _really_  wonder. Are you trying to say you're afraid if you guys got together that it would just be you taking advantage of his kindness? Did you ever stop to think that maybe part of why he's being so nice to you IS THAT HE LIKES YOU? Oh my god, are all guys this stupid?"

Zuko rubbed at the back of his head, embarrassed, but he still shrugged, flushing a little at Toph's bluntness. "Well... even... even if that's true. I mean... how do I tell the difference between...  _liking_ someone and just... being really grateful for everything they've done for me?"

"Kiss 'em and see if it makes your pants tingle."

Zuko promptly choked on a mouthful of boba. "Y-you--! I--!" He stopped, swallowed hard and tried to take a steady breath. "You think it'd work?"

"You do realize that you're a seventeen year old boy, right? And that I'm a thirteen year old girl? Why am I having the birds and the bees talk with you? What I  _think_  is that you're seventeen and that's when you're supposed to do stuff like this!"

"Okay, okay." Zuko scowled. "You don't have to rub it in..." The problem wasn't, of course that he didn't know about the birds and the bees. He knew plenty about sex; what he didn't know about was stuff like romance. Even with Mai he'd never been very good at it.

Toph just shrugged. "I just think you don't have much to lose by giving it a try. Except for your dignity when I constantly make gay jokes at your expense. But other than that... What'd you get anyway?"

"Strawberry green--" She swiped Zuko's drink deftly from his hand to sample it for herself. Zuko paused as she took the straw into her mouth and helped herself to a large swallow. "--tea," he finished. Toph's attitude, while occasionally startling, did, at least, provide a refreshingly honest point of view.

"Pretty good," Toph commented, sliding the drink back across the table to him. "Anyway, just look out for his sister cause she'll probably try to kill you. Even though you're probably the best choice so far since you're not dying and even in the same timezone."

Zuko wasn't sure how to respond to this so he took his drink back with a mumbled, "Um, thanks." She could hear the faint pout in his voice and kicked him under the table, grinning somewhere to his left. "Oww..." he complained and then threw his napkin at her. "Isn't it about time we got you back before your mom starts thinking I'm not actually the nice, innocent gay boy you told her I was?"

"Yeah, probably," Toph said with a shrug and she held on to Zuko's sleeve as he navigated the crowded tea shop to toss their garbage before leaving.

"Anyway," Zuko mumbled as they left the shop, "Thanks for, you know... talking to me. I think."

Toph shrugged. "It builds character. Plus now I have to see this through so I didn't lie to my mom."

Zuko realized in that moment that he really had been spending too much time with Sokka when his first reaction to Toph's comment was to slap his own forehead.

 


	23. Chapter 23

With everything that had been going on lately, the porch in Iroh's yard had been somewhat neglected. It'd been a few weeks since anyone had worked on it. When Zuko and Sokka returned to the project one afternoon after school, Sokka felt a strange sense of relief -- as though this were a representation of moving past hardship for Zuko. He wasn't naive enough to believe that the door was closed on the difficulties that had appeared in the last few weeks, but it seemed like things were really settling for the moment. Zuko's bruises had completely faded and he was smiling more often.

Once in a while, Sokka would catch him with a sad, far away sort of look in his eye and he would bump the other boy's shoulder with his, and sometimes let it rest there. Not to try and make him forget or to completely break him out of what he was feeling -- that wouldn't be fair. But instead to just remind him that even when he was feeling bad, he wasn't alone.

And more and more, Zuko would shake himself, smile and lean back, as if to say 'I know,' and 'thanks'.

With the frame of the patio entirely finished and the paneling at over half, both boys were beginning to feel the excitement of a job nearing almost completion. Sure there would still be the task of sanding and staining and sealing, but at the moment those things hardly mattered as they maneuvered another beam into place, cutting it to the right size and nailing it down.

"Maybe when it's done, we can eat dinners out here," Zuko considered, reaching for the bottle of water his uncle had brought out earlier.

“That'd be nice," Sokka agreed, sinking down next to Zuko on the completed part of the floor. "We should have a barbecue to celebrate when it's done!" He offered a grin. "Plus it'll be a great place for your uncle to play Pai Sho when he has his friends over."

Zuko chuckled. "Yeah, that too." He took a swallow of his water and stole a glance at Sokka. "So, are you going to make him teach you everything he knows about the game?" Zuko wondered, grinning faintly. "Become a Pai Sho apprentice?"

Sokka just smirked back at him. "That's secretly why I hang around here all the time. Just for the Pai Sho tips."

"I thought it was for Uncle's cooking," Zuko shot back with a snicker. "Keep your story straight or I might start to think you're lying."

"I can't help it that your uncle is a man of many talents!" Sokka protested with a laugh, taking the water bottle from Zuko's hand to steal some for himself.

Zuko didn't really protest, just punched Sokka lightly in the shoulder. As Sokka took a swallow of the water, Zuko found his thoughts drift unbidden to his recent conversation with Toph.  _How do I know the difference... between attraction and gratitude?_

Sokka barely managed not to snicker around his swig of water, then sank back, flopping across the raw, unfinished planks. "Halfway done!" he said, looking up at the sky and recalling one of the first days that they'd been working on the project and laid in the grass, looking up at the clouds. Idly, he reached to pluck at a worn spot in Zuko's jeans near his knee. Over the last few weeks they'd been getting more and more comfortable with physical contact... Sokka felt a little bad about using any excuse to touch the other boy in some manner -- a smudge on his face or a playful grapple -- but not too bad. Not when sometimes it felt like Zuko was using the same excuses. But what he wanted was to touch without an excuse. To thread their fingers for no reason other than to feel his warmth, or to smooth his hair away from his face and let his hand linger. To run his fingers through the lank, raven shag. He looked up and found Zuko watching him and smiled sheepishly, letting his hand drop. "Hey."

"Hey," Zuko echoed, looking away with thinly disguised embarrassment. After a moment he lay back beside Sokka and turned his own eyes to the clouds. It would be easy, he told himself. To just lean over and do it. If Toph was right, the worst that could happen was Sokka might panic... but he'd probably calm down and let them both forget about it. Worst case. They were good friends, after all, right? And what if he didn't react badly? What if it was all Zuko needed to figure things out? Wouldn't it be worth the risk?

They were silent for a long moment and Sokka listened to his heart thundering. There was a question that had been bothering him for a while, but he'd been too afraid to ask. Now it was on the tip of his tongue, for no good reason. Maybe just because they were getting back to as normal as they'd been in quite a while so maybe it wasn't as crazy to ask. And then his mouth was forming the words, though he felt detached from them. "So... so, I've been, like... curious. After everything that's happened... would you ever think about dating a guy again or are you done with that?" He actually was surprised at how he made it sound like a simple curiosity. Because obviously he didn't understand how this worked -- could Zuko just turn it off if it was more important to earn back his father's favor?

Zuko was quiet for a long time, his own thoughts circulating, knocking about, weighing on his mind with maybes and what ifs and chances he could take. He couldn't focus, and his breathing kept coming stilted no matter how he tried to remember his meditations. Had Sokka said something just now? He wasn't sure.  _Just do it,_  Toph said.  _No son of mine..._  his father intoned.  _You can be yourself here, Nephew...Maybe because he LIKES YOU... I like you. I like you too._

In the space of a heartbeat, Zuko was up on an elbow, his other hand coming down on the other side of Sokka's shoulders. He didn't even --couldn't-- meet Sokka's eyes. He knew he would lose his nerve and not be able to go through with it. Kissing Sokka. And then he was. Kissing Sokka.

And for his part, Sokka was frozen, completely unmoving, eyes wide and staring into Zuko's face. The other boy's eyes were shut, but his brow was furrowed, reading only as determination. Meanwhile, Sokka was sure his heart was wringing itself like a wet cloth. That was the only thing that could explain the intense tightness in his chest. Dizzy -- distantly he felt the warmth of Zuko's lips against his -- and distantly, he registered how perfect it was -- and how he'd been waiting for it -- but mostly he was just trying not to pass out from the shock. And then just as suddenly, Zuko was pulling away and Sokka's jaw fell slack, still staring up at him.

"I-I guess--that's uh -- a yes?" Sokka squeaked, sure that his flush must have reached his toes by then.

Zuko blinked down at him, breathing hard and equally red, limbs quivering as they fought the impulse to jerk away and flee. He'd been waiting for a punch to the face or... or something, but he wasn't at all sure what Sokka was talking about. "Huh?"

Sokka realized that he hadn't been listening to him at all and couldn't help but laugh and then his grin wouldn't fade. His heart was still racing but the shock had been left behind and replaced with something else. He felt giddy. He lifted a hand to place on Zuko's arm near his head, feeling the tremble under his fingers. "That was really unfair..."

Zuko bit his lip, feeling suddenly awkward. "I'm sorry...?" he tried, embarrassed and uncertain. Sokka was smiling, but what did it mean? And part of him wanted to run, but another part of him just... wanted to do it again.

A hand was pressed lightly over Zuko's mouth, silencing him gently. "You ruined my speech. I had the whole thing planned out. I was going to tell you how I liked you, but I was afraid to say anything. That I didn't want you to feel pressured or weird if you didn't feel the same way, but I just wanted you to know. That I didn't want it to ruin or change our friendship but I wanted you to know that someone felt that way about you. Cause I always just wanna find any excuse to spend time with you and I can't help but smile every time I think about you."

Zuko first response was to screw his face up into an expression that might have been confusion or a very firm attempt to keep his emotions from suddenly overwhelming him. "Are you sure you're not making fun of me?" he pressed, just a little suspiciously. "You-- you really mean all that?"

Sokka's response was to grab the front of the other boy's shirt, firmly dragging him down again for a  _real_  kiss. One where he wasn't frozen with surprise and could kiss Zuko in earnest and this time the younger boy's eyes closed as he pressed his lips firmly to Zuko's.

Their second kiss was different, Zuko reflected. There wasn't the same hesitation or bizarre determination. There was just a point to be made and a moment enjoyed. And with something like surprise, Zuko realized that it felt genuinely  _good_. That the longer Sokka's lips lingered on his, the less he wanted to let them go. His face was warm and his pulse raced, but everything else just felt... natural.

The hand holding his shirt slid instead to his cheek, lightly cupping his jaw as Sokka's lips pulled back a little, then kissed him again. As though he'd tried to stop but couldn't bring himself to. Not when Zuko's mouth was just as soft and warm as he'd expected. Finally he let his lips slip away, tipping his head a little so that their foreheads still touched lightly. His thumb brushed Zuko's cheek lightly. "That's what I mean," he murmured.

Zuko hovered, unmoving for a long moment, then with a long held breath, he turned over and flopped back down beside Sokka, this time shoulder to shoulder, arms touching, fingers brushing. "Oh," he said finally, dumbly, eyes once more turned upward. "I... I like you too." And he meant it.

Sokka just grinned skyward, still feeling the heat in his cheeks. He shifted his fingers a little, hooking his pinky with Zuko's. "Cool," was all he said.

Zuko squeezed lightly at Sokka's finger and smiled too, finally, finally feeling the weight of tension lift from his chest, and ease from his throat until all that was left was a shy but growing sense of hope. "Yeah," he answered.

Shyly creeping fingers slowly moved to instead take Zuko's hand, twining their fingers together for no good reason. Just because it felt good and because he wanted to. He had wanted to for weeks and weeks. He couldn't think of anything to say. He was just... happy. Really, really happy. And scared. But mostly just happy.

And despite everything else, in spite of his father, his sister, his situation, in that moment, and maybe longer, so was Zuko.

 


	24. Chapter 24

That evening, Sokka drove home with his lips still warm from the goodnight kiss he'd given Zuko on the front porch. He couldn't stop grinning, and even when he got home his sister shot him curious looks and commented about his overly-cheerful mood. The next morning, it was difficult to contain himself when he and Katara picked Zuko up, exchanging "Heys" and smiles.

Somehow, he quickly realized, this was almost  _worse_  than before. Before, he had wanted to touch Zuko and had forced himself not to for Zuko's sake. But now he wanted to touch the other boy -- and he COULD -- except that he couldn't. Because he knew that they had to hide it for an infinite number of reasons. It was excruciating, especially through lunch with Zuko sitting next to him. He brushed the other boy's ankle under the table with his because at the very, very least he didn't want Zuko to think he'd forgotten about the day before.

That afternoon, he had soccer and almost skipped it to go over to Zuko's but thought better of it when he considered that Zuko might think him desperate or pathetic. Another painfully long day passed and finally they were alone in the car, knowing they'd still be alone when they got to Iroh's house. Sokka was uncharacteristically quiet; thoughts were heavy on his mind as he navigated surface streets with an expression as though it required his most rapt concentration.

"You okay?" Zuko finally asked, sliding a hand tentatively across the center console to rest lightly on Sokka's knee. He frowned faintly, glancing at the other boy from the corner of his eye. "You look... like you're thinking really hard."

"Huh?" Sokka startled a little at the touch, but put his hand over Zuko's before he could pull it away. He couldn't help but blush a little, and glanced at the other boy. "Oh-- yeah, I'm okay. Sorry." Before he could explain though, he was parking in front of Iroh's.

Zuko let them in and they dropped their bags by the door before flopping onto the couch. Sokka turned, his cheek resting against the back cushions to look at Zuko. "Um -- listen. Sh-should I -- I mean... Can I ask you out?" Though he'd meant for the words to come with confidence, they had instead come shy and uncertain.

Despite the kisses they'd already shared, Zuko found his cheeks heating with the question. "Y-you mean like... out for food or like... um being... yourboyfriendorwhatever...?" he mumbled the last part, his words jumbling together, tongue stumbling on the b-word. He looked away afterward, rubbing at his arm, failing in his attempts to appear casual and unaffected.

"Whichever you're okay with..." Sokka gave an awkward laugh. He ran a hand through his loose hair, glancing up at Zuko sheepishly. "The uh... the second option gets the first option as a bonus though.”

During his time with Jet, Zuko had never been called 'boyfriend' and he'd never thought of himself like that. They'd been friends and then more, but never quite... that. Now, here with Sokka, he found that the idea didn't bother him. That even if no one else knew,  _they_  would. "Um," he began, "Y-yeah, okay." He reached out, slid his hand into Sokka's with only a little flush of embarrassment this time.

Though he tried to keep his cool, Sokka couldn't stop himself from beaming at the other boy, lips tugged into a wide grin. But then he coughed and squeezed lightly at Zuko's hand, regaining composure. "Thanks," he said with a slightly more subdued smile. His blue eyes searched Zuko's face, a warm happiness evident there as he hesitated for a moment. They hadn't touched since the afternoon before last but the memory was quite fresh. Tentatively, Sokka eased a little closer, watching the other boy carefully. Wondering if he had been thinking about kissing for the last day like he had been.

Zuko leaned in, squeezed Sokka's hand just a bit more firmly. He spared a thought to wonder if kissing got easier, or if his stomach would ever quit turning to jelly every time they touched. He licked his lips nervously; their noses brushed. "I just..." he breathed, the words hardly above a whisper as he closed the tiny space left between them.

Sokka sank into his touch with a sigh, finding the only thing that could ease the smile from his lips was when they were busier with other things. He wasn't as panicked -- wasn't freaking out this time and felt like he could appreciate Zuko's lips that much more because of it. His heart was still racing with excitement -- after all, he'd just got the other boy to agree to go out with him. And no matter how secret it had to be, he still was thrilled by the idea. Sokka's enthusiasm showed plainly in his kiss, pressing up against Zuko's mouth with an eagerness he had not shown before. When they parted again, cheeks resting against the back of the couch, Sokka had to bite his lip to keep his grin under control.

"I guess we should do homework."

"Yeah, guess so," Zuko agreed and mirrored Sokka's happiness in his own smile. He tugged Sokka from the embrace of the couch so they could study upstairs. "Uncle will be home soon anyway."

Not that studying didn't mean Sokka couldn't lean against the other boy while they read, or bug him now and then by sneaking in a poke with the blunt end of his pencil to a thigh or a rib, or rest his chin on Zuko's shoulder as they went over a math problem. And then 'accidentally' bite his ear. For his part, Zuko was content with these little things, responding with a pinch or a nibble of his own or once for nearly ten minutes entirely ignoring Sokka's pokes for attention until a quick glance at the other boy's pouting face made him cave and Zuko tackled him to the floor, kissing an angry red mark just behind his ear.

He was glad he'd remembered to close his bedroom door.

When Sokka had to leave to be home in time for dinner, Zuko walked him to the door and Iroh offered him a friendly smile and wave from the kitchen as they passed. Sokka hesitated at the entrance, disappointed that their first afternoon like this had to come to an end. But then he had to laugh at himself because it was just that -- the first one. And it wasn't as though they hadn't been spending at least three afternoons a week together for the last several months.

Zuko closed the door behind him, followed Sokka to his car, and leaned in through the window once Sokka had settled. "Hey," he murmured, "Thanks for coming over."

Though he would have hoped to put on a sly smile, only a goofy one would appear. "I always come over.”

"Yeah but... you know," Zuko replied intelligently and ducked in for a quick kiss, almost chaste.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Sokka said and his grin probably couldn't have gotten any wider.

"Okay." Zuko quirked a smile and straightened, offering another wave just before he returned to the front door and let himself back into the house. "What's for dinner, Uncle?" His voice was cheerful as he peeked into the kitchen.

"Teriyaki tonight, Nephew!" Iroh replied, smiling at the young man as he wiped off his hands. "Can I ask you to set the table?"

"Of course," Zuko answered and without hesitation, moved to the cabinets to pull down plates and glasses, setting them out before returning for silverware. "It smells delicious!"

Iroh paused in his work, glancing at his nephew's back as he set the table, cocking one brow. Then he smirked privately and returned to his work. "Thank you, Zuko. It's too bad your friend couldn't stay tonight."

"Oh, yeah, well, you know, he's got homework for other classes to finish and I have dinner with you" Zuko shrugged, still smiling wistfully. "Thank you for letting Sokka come over so often. I know this is your house and everything, so..."

"You know Sokka is always welcome in my house," Iroh said easily, hanging up his apron and bringing their dinner to the table. "He's the youngest person I've ever met who could even hold their own against me in Pai Sho!" He sat down and started serving their food, his smirk still creasing the corners of his mouth. "Just make sure you put a sock on the doorknob if I should turn up the sound on the television!"

It was a close call; Zuko very nearly dropped the knife on his foot. "U-uncle!" he gasped, instantly red. "It's just-- we aren't... I mean... Uncle!"

Iroh clucked his tongue and sank down into a seat. "Now, now. Don't be embarrassed, Nephew. When did it happen?" he asked brightly.

"We--! We... just... kissed, that's all," Zuko mumbled, dizzy with the heat in his face. How could Uncle read him so easily? "Day before yesterday," he added, even quieter as he picked up his fork and began to push around the food on his plate.

"That's excellent!" Iroh said enthusiastically. "Nephew -- I'm just so glad to see you doing things for you, to make yourself happy."

Zuko mumbled indistinctly, nibbled on a bit of chicken, and avoided meeting his uncle's cheerful eyes. "...Thank you..." he answered, hardly intelligible around the bite of food.

Iroh just chuckled and poured him some tea. "Don't pout so, Zuko. Isn't it better for me to know than for you to have to sneak about?"

"No," he mumbled. Then, "Thank you," when he accepted the tea.

But in spite of Zuko's discomfort, Iroh only laughed, sipping his own tea briefly before turning his attention on to his meal. "All right, all right. I suppose I won't ask you for details until you are more comfortable."

Zuko heaved a little sigh of relief and finally put the rest of the bite in his mouth, chewing and swallowing before looking up at the man across the table. "Your cooking really is good, Uncle."

Iroh smiled warmly at him. "Thank you, Zuko. I'm glad you like it."

The warm weather seemed to have crept up out of nowhere and before they knew it, spring break was upon them and the whole group of friends found their free time taken up with plans and preparations, shopping and packing. On Friday, the last day of school, Aang, Katara, Zuko, Sokka and Toph filled the trunk, bought snacks, piled into Sokka's car and took off for the coast. The drive was long, but with a car full of kids, cokes, and a constant scuffle over what music they would listen too, the trip went by with surprising speed. Aang and Zuko were perhaps a little worse for the wear. Katara had claimed the front seat for herself (with a disappointed glance shared between Zuko and Sokka) and Toph's four-hour-long game of slug bug (Sokka called them and Toph delivered the punches) had left both boys with tender, bruised shoulders.

It was dark by the time they pulled into the loading zone of a hotel so tall they had to crane their necks all the way back to see the top. Men dressed in silk suits and roses pinned to their chests appeared to unload the bags, while Toph stood by importantly and directed the activity.

"Take them to the executive suite, please," she announced, with as much disinterest and superiority as she could muster, which (given that this was Toph) happened to be quite a lot.

She'd tried to convince her father that they desperately needed the penthouse with the private hot tub and a bedroom for each of them, but the stubborn old man seemed to think that they would be fine with two bedrooms between five kids and a single jacuzzi bath tub. So stingy -- it's not like they actually had to  _pay_  for the room since her family owned the hotel.

Sokka handed his keys off to the valet, imitating Toph's air of superiority before they stepped into the opulent hotel lobby. Though somewhat out of place, the group of five travel-wrinkled teenagers took in their surroundings with appropriate awe and Toph was appropriately smug about the favor she'd arranged. Their bags were waiting by the time they made it up to the suite -- one of four rooms on the sixteenth floor with views of the entire city and the bay beyond. The lights of the cityscape shone through the tall windows that comprised one side of the main room and instantly, Sokka and Aang were glued there, grinning as they pressed their faces against the glass.

The accommodations were just as luxurious as as the lobby, with two living rooms, a dining room, a full kitchen, two bedrooms and three bathrooms. Their late dinner came via room service. Refreshed by the meal, late as it was, they were far too excited to sleep so the next several hours were spent heckling movies on the wide-screen TV, jumping on huge beds and looking through the armload of tourist pamphlets that Sokka had grabbed in the lobby.

"Can we go to the animal park tomorrow?" Aang wondered hopefully, peering over Sokka's shoulder as he browsed a pamphlet full of elephants and zebras and koalas. "Pleeeease, guys?"

Zuko was stretched out on his stomach across the wide king-sized bed, shuffling through bright fliers for beach resorts and local museums and nursing a bag of candy he'd snagged from the room's mini bar (emptied of alcohol prior to their arrival according to Toph's father's instructions). "Which one?" he grinned, pulling another pamphlet from the pile. "There's Ocean World just across town."

"I thought you wanted to go to the beach tomorrow," Katara put in, frowning a little at the mess they'd already managed to make in the few hours since they'd arrived. There was little point in fooling herself; never mind that Toph was technically a girl -- Katara was stuck on this trip with  _four_  boys.

"The hotel has three huge indoor pools," Toph chimed in. "One is just for guests on this floor."

"Besides," Sokka pointed out sensibly, "the beach isn't  _that_  far away from home. We could always do that on a weekend. Maybe at the end of the month?"

"Sounds fine to me," Toph replied. "Besides, don't see one beach, you haven't seen 'em all. I'd much rather not see animals that I can't not see at home."

Everyone fell silent for a moment, trying to figure out what Toph had just said before Aang piped up, "Yeah!"

"Well," Katara sighed, but found herself smiling anyway, sinking onto the edge of the bed to pluck the flier from Zuko's hands. "If we're going to go here tomorrow, we should get some sleep now and get up early."

"I call this bed!" Toph rolled past Aang, bumping into Zuko's shoulder as she sprawled herself across the comforter.

"You can't call a whole bed for yourself!" Sokka protested, gathering up the pamphlets for safe storage. "I guess this is the girl's room and the other is the guy's. Yeah?" This earned nods around the room, although Katara looked slightly disdainful that she'd been allotted the mussed bed. The girls were bid good-night and the boys dragged their bags finally from the front room to the bedroom. It was only then that Sokka realized he hadn't actually bothered to peek in on the second bedroom -- here, instead of one king sized-bed there was two doubles. He caught Zuko's glance, flushed and looked away, instead busying himself with digging through his suitcase in fear of broaching the subject.

Zuko had stepped to the side to move his clothes from his suitcase to the nearest set of drawers, but Aang was frowning faintly at the beds. His gaze darted between them and the other boys who seemed to be steadfastly avoiding making any claims. "Well, if you guys don't mind, I'll take the one next to the window?"

"Uh--" Sokka began intelligently, glancing at Zuko and then quickly away again. "That--that sounds fine," he decided. When he cast a mortified look at Aang and earned an understanding grin from the younger boy, he sort of wanted to lock himself in the small closet and just sleep there.

Of course he  _wanted_  to share the remaining bed with Zuko. But should he offer to sleep on the couch instead? They'd been secretly 'dating' for less than two weeks... would Zuko think him out of line? Was it too soon? Clearly nothing was going to  _happen_ , not with Aang in the room with them and they had spent the night together in the much smaller space of Iroh's couch -- but that was before Sokka had asked him out, and it had been under much different circumstances. If Zuko were a girl, he wouldn't dare to assume that it would be okay for them to share a bed so soon,but Zuko wasn't a girl. Worse, what if he thought that Sokka didn't  _want_  to share the bed with him if he offered to sleep on the couch? And it would be weird if he asked if it was okay in front of Aang who was clearly trying to do him a favor by claiming one of the beds for himself but --

"You want the left side or the right?" was the question that interrupted Sokka's panicked musings, and he turned to find Zuko staring at him, waiting for an answer. He was already dressed in pajama pants and nothing else, pillow under his arm.

"The left," Sokka squeaked in response, frozen for a long moment before he finally started pulling off his clothes. When he was finally down to his boxers and a tank top, Zuko was already settling in and Aang was under his own covers.

"Good night guys!" the youngest of the three called cheerfully as he snuggled into his pillow and Sokka turned out the light.

A moment later, after feeling his way through the dark, Sokka made it to his side of the bed and gingerly lifted the edge of the blankets. It wasn't a small bed -- there was plenty of room for two people to sleep comfortably and never so much as brush ankles. It was plush and comfortable and warm and the sheets were soft and welcoming. Sokka settled on his back stiffly, staring up at the ceiling with the sheets pulled up to his chin. By the time he worked up the courage to glance over at Zuko, his eyes had just barely adjusted enough to make out the other boy.

Zuko blinked back at him in the dark, and then broke into a bashful sort of grin. He said nothing for a long moment, until the sound of quiet snores interrupted their silence. This seemed to have been what Zuko was waiting for because he reached across the space between them, found and took hold of Sokka's hand. "Sorry," he whispered, "I just... thought it would be less weird if I acted... you know, like it wasn't a big deal."

"Yeah," Sokka murmured back. He was, of course, right and Sokka felt very silly for his internal panic. He shifted just a little closer, turning on his side. "I was afraid I was gonna get stuck alone on the couch," he confided, threading their fingers. Zuko's hands were always so warm.

Zuko laughed quietly, though not unkindly. "I would have snuck out when everyone was asleep and slept out there with you," he said with another squeeze at his hand. "But... this is nicer. Don't you think?"

"Definitely," Sokka agreed, his grin suddenly gleaming in the dark. "And we get to do it for three whole nights." He scooted just a little closer.

"Do you think... Aang will say anything?" Zuko didn't sound worried, exactly. At least, not for himself. He lifted Sokka's fingers to his lips, kissed there lightly.

Sokka could feel his cheeks flush in the dark at the simple gesture, only making him itch that much more to move closer. He shook his head, hesitated a little. "No... he..." It was probably wise to share with Zuko the fact that their secret was at least partially out. "He knows I liked you... I haven't told him we... um.. well, I mean he just knows that I was gonna maybe say something about it."

"Oh. I guess maybe he suspects then," he chuckled quietly, scooted a little closer, just enough to brush noses with Sokka.

"Or he's trying to help me hook up," Sokka replied with a quiet snicker, grinning just a little more the closer they dared to move together. Ankles brushed under the soft sheets. "Is it working?"

"Mm," Zuko considered, frowning in thought, even as his toes crept up Sokka's calf. "I'm not sure. Maybe you need to put a little more effort into it?"

Sokka poked at his bare stomach in protest. "You just wait. Tomorrow I'm gonna kiss you every time no one's looking."

"So brave," Zuko teased, but he didn't seem to mind and Sokka couldn't be sure in the dark, but maybe his cheeks were a little pinker.

On that note, Sokka sidled just a little closer, fingers slipping free of Zuko's to instead slide an arm around his waist. "Sometimes I snore," he confided with a quiet embarrassment, the quirk of brow and lips reiterating the emotion.

"Sometimes I kick. But I'm a sound sleeper," he added, sighing comfortably as Sokka's arm settled around him.

"And I have a pretty high pain tolerance," Sokka snickered in reply, letting their foreheads bump lightly.

"I think we'll get along just fine then," was Zuko's answer, voice fading into a comfortable sigh. "Sleep well, hm?" There was the faintest hint of reluctance lacing the words.

"Mm." Sokka settled with finality to the sheets with his hand gently on Zuko's bare stomach beneath the covers. With the other boy on his back and Sokka on his side, he could rest his head on the pillow just above Zuko's shoulder and let their legs tangle just a little bit. It felt perfect and he couldn't quite bring himself  _not_  to do it for the sake of being caught... mostly because he was certain that even if he slept firmly on the opposite side of the bed, he would migrate closer to Zuko's warmth in the night. Luckily even if Katara were to wander in in the morning and catch them that way, she'd know it was Sokka's sleeping habits. "You too," he finally replied, closed his eyes and sighed one of the happiest sighs of his life.

 


	25. Chapter 25

After dinner, rather exhausted after a very active day, the gang collapsed in the luxurious living room, provided with a big wide screen TV and a database of movies. The particular chosen film (a period drama that Sokka insisted upon) bored the younger kids quickly and they decided as soon as their food had settled, to go to the pool instead.

Sokka smirked askance, catching Zuko's eye across the couch. "My plan worked."

Zuko grinned, reaching out with a toe to poke Sokka playfully in the ribs. "You schemer, you," he chided, before he withdrew his foot to tuck it under himself. "So. What was the rest of your plan then?"

"To watch the rest of this in peace," Sokka replied plainly and sidled up to the other boy, tugging Zuko's arm around his shoulder demandingly. He smiled with satisfaction and settled against Zuko's side as an epic clashing of broadswords began on screen.

"Perfect." Zuko sighed and tucked his arm tighter around the younger boy. "You always do have the best ideas," he murmured, turning to press a chaste kiss to Sokka's cheek.

His satisfied grin only widened as they settled in, Sokka resting his head comfortably in the curve of Zuko's shoulder so that his hair tickled the other boy's ear occasionally. With the corner of the couch supporting them, he could think of nothing more pleasant in that moment.

For quite a while they were silent, relaxed and soaking in the rare, complete and utter privacy. When a break came in the movie's quiet, dramatic dialog came and gave way to a thrilling horse-chase, Sokka spoke up again. "Will you go on a real date with me on Monday?" His voice was soft, giving away his shyness but he didn't shift or even look away from the television. Though it'd been nearly two weeks since Sokka had 'officially asked him out', not much had really changed between them aside from the increase in physical affection and a few afternoons of making out before Iroh came home.

Zuko blinked and looked away from the TV to meet Sokka's eyes, only to find him staring steadfastly straight forward. It still managed to surprise him on occasion how uncertain and bashful the usually-outgoing and exuberant boy could be. Still, Zuko couldn't help smiling, a fond warmth springing to his chest as he reached over to take Sokka's hand and gently tug it into his own lap. "Sounds like fun," he murmured back, lifting Sokka's fingers to his lips in imitation of the gestures he'd offered the night before. "Let's do it."

Sokka glanced then, a victorious glint in his eye and lips pressed together to keep his face from beaming -- he was supposed to be cool about all this, right? Even when he wanted to tackle the other boy and smother him with excited kisses. So to save face, he just trained his expression into a cocky smirk and snuggled a little closer, agreeing with, "Yeah." He did squirm a little though when they turned their attention back to the film and when Zuko stole a glance at him, he was wearing the grin he'd been trying so hard to conceal.

Both boys startled when the electronic click of the lock reached their ears and the front door opened. They were out of the line of sight of the main entrance but still had to hurry to achieve the appropriate distance for two teenage boys. When no riotous noise followed the sound, only slow footsteps, they shared a frown, but then Toph's father appeared in the French doors that separated the large living room from the front sitting area and dining room.

"Oh -- hi Mr. Bei Fong," Sokka said with relief.

"Boys," the older man greeted with a nod and a glance around the suite. It was late but he still had a briefcase in hand, expensive suit crisp. "I just wanted to check in on you all before bed. Are Toph and the others already asleep...?"

"Oh." Zuko stood politely out of reflex, years of being raised to respect his superiors ingrained in his instincts. "Actually, Katara took them to the pool. Um, the... the one on this floor?" he added, in case it might be important. He glanced quickly toward Sokka, who was already scrambling to his own feet, taking Zuko's example.

Toph's father hummed his understanding as Sokka picked up the remote to pause the movie, cutting off the sound abruptly. Mr. Bei Fong set his brief case down and sank into one of the chairs on either side of the couch. "I trust everything is going well?" he questioned, nodding for the boys to sit down. "You all have everything you need, the staff is treating you well?"

"Yes, sir," Sokka nodded quickly. "Everything's really great!"

Zuko sat, swallowing the odd nervousness that came over him in the man's presence. "We're very grateful for your accommodations, Mr. Bei Fong," he added, bowing his head politely. "Everyone has been very helpful and the hotel itself is beautiful." Glancing up at Sokka, who still hovered rather awkwardly, Zuko caught lightly his elbow, tugging pointedly to guide him back to sitting. "It seems your daughter wasn't exaggerating when she told us how fantastic the place is." He tried for a smile.

A tiny glance was sent from the corner of his eye, Sokka impressed with how politely articulate Zuko could be in certain situations. It was a strange, glaring contrast to the ornery boy he and Aang had originally met and Sokka caught himself grinning before schooling his expression into something more serious.

"Of course," Mr. Bei Fong replied graciously. "It's very important to us that Toph have a safe, controlled environment in which to spend time with her friends." There was a long-established understanding that though the young, blind girl's parents were wary of who Toph chose as her friends, they had come to trust the group that she spent most of her time with. They were also fully aware that their daughter's reckless and aggressive personality could have easily ended her up in a far more dangerous crowd and were somewhat appreciative of this fact. "Toph informed me that your plans for the day were the zoo. What are you doing tomorrow?"

"We were planning a few museums," Sokka put in, sitting up a little straighter, finding Zuko's politeness influencing him. "In the park – and maybe some shopping."

Toph's father nodded thoughtfully. "I see. Well, I must say, I'm pleased to hear that you will be spending a portion of your break on educational activities. That decision displays reassuring responsibility."

Zuko too, was nodding, confirming Sokka's information, and sighed with relief at the older man's words of approval. "And of course we'll make sure that Toph is always in the company of one of us or Katara."

This earned another approving nod. "Make sure that you keep the driver informed of your plans so that you aren't left waiting anywhere unnecessarily," he warned. "And I'd rather if you return to the vicinity of the hotel by dark. If you want to eat out, that's fine but there's plenty of restaurants in the area. The driver can help you decide." More nodding from the oldest members of their little entourage. Mr. Bei Fong cleared his throat and when he spoke again, a measure of the formality in his voice melted. "I did want to speak to you boys -- just briefly," he said, coughed a little. "Toph did inform my wife about... well, about you two." Sokka blinked. Then his eyes widened, face blanched. "Now -- don't worry, we have no problem with it. We're a more open-minded family than you might think. And I think it's good that you kids are in a generation where you can express yourselves and explore your feelings without the sort of consequences that people in my generation had to face." Mr. Bei Fong continued in spite of the mortified expressions before him. "Now though, that said, I do want to make sure that you understand the need to exercise discretion around younger, more impressionable minds. It's very fine and healthy that you boys have... discovered yourselves at your age but it's important to keep in mind the influence that you may have on your younger friends."

For a long, painful moment, no one spoke. For his part, Zuko could only stare, open-mouthed and be grateful he'd been sitting down. He supposed he oughtn't to have been surprised that Toph would have told her parents about them. In fact, it made sense, given that she'd already reassured her mother that Zuko had no interest in taking advantage of the younger girl for just that reason. This logic did not, however, make the moment any less humiliating. "Ah-- I can.... assure you. Sir. That we... Sokka and I would never... behave in... any way that might be thought of as... inappropriate." Zuko let out a huff of breath, suddenly dizzy.

Sokka wanted to shrink back and disappear between the couch cushions. His face had gone from paling to impossibly hot, his ears probably glowing. He stared at the coffee table and nodded vigorously to agree with Zuko. It was the first time that anyone  _officially_  knew about them, even if it was only by confirming what Toph had  **assumed**  had happened -- why was it Toph's father of all people?!

"I'm glad to hear you say that," Mr. Bei Fong said, rather kindly given his formal personality. "You understand my concern, as a parent, of course. I remember what it was like to be your age." He offered a faint smile which only seemed to make the moment that much more awkward. He wasn't, however, done yet. "I don't know if you've yet ah -- told – your families..." Sokka shook his head violently, screwing his eyes shut. "Don't worry, we won't interfere... that's your business. But I know these sort of things can be difficult to talk about with your family -- Sokka, I know it's only your grandmother at home... well, what I'm trying to say is if you boys ever need -- advice or --" Suddenly the composed business man was almost as awkward as the boys themselves. "--not that I have any first hand experience -- but there are resources and if you need help getting to them, my wife and I want to support our daughter's friends. That's what I mean."

Sokka's shoulders were hunching as though he were going to curl in on himself and disappear. Zuko glanced between Sokka and Toph's father, coughed lightly, rubbed at his brow and realized that Sokka was in no current condition to breathe normally, let alone speak, let alone answer Mr. Bei Fong's gracious, if uncomfortable, offer. Which left him to do it. He cleared his throat again. "Th-thank you, Sir," he managed, somehow, to find his own voice, never mind the way it cracked with embarrassment. "Um. I'm--- we're grateful for your... offer. It's very... kind of you." The truth was, this whole conversation could have gone much worse. At least the man wasn't telling them to stay away from his daughter or threatening to tell their families. They had to, at least, be thankful for that. "A-and... we-- we'll let you know! Um, right?" He nudged Sokka, whose eyes seemed somewhat glazed over.

"R-right..." Sokka managed, nodded, forced himself to swallow. "Thank you... Mr. Bei Fong... sir."

The older man just nodded and rose to his feet again to smooth his slacks. "Well, I'm going to go check in on Toph and the others. If you kids need anything, I'll be staying in the suite across the hall tonight. Good-night, boys."

The door clicked shut. Sokka fell backward, shoved a couch pillow over his face and screamed into it.

Zuko let out a shaky breath, and laughed, reaching over to pat Sokka's knee. It wasn't that he was any less mortified by the conversation they'd just had with Toph's father of all people, it was just that-- well, he knew it could have gone a whole lot worse. "He seemed... nice," Zuko finally managed, prying the pillow away from Sokka's face before he could smother himself with it -- which he seemed to be trying to do. "You okay?"

"That was the most embarrassing moment of my life," Sokka groaned back, rubbing at his temples. "I mean... TOPH'S DAD? Jeeze!"

"At least it wasn't your grandmother?" Zuko tried. He shrugged, placating when Sokka shot him a  _look_. "It was pretty... awkward," he admitted, rubbing lightly at Sokka's knee, at attempt at comfort. "Still, it's sorta nice to know that not all parents are gonna freak out about stuff like that. Right?" He tried to catch Sokka's eye, to smile reassuringly.

Sokka hesitated, a pang of guilt seizing him that reflected in his face when he glanced at the other boy. There were moments when he wasn't the most sensitive guy on the planet. "Sorry," he said quietly. "I know it could have been -- could be a lot worse. I guess I just... hadn't really thought about stuff like this yet."

"'Coming out' you mean?" Zuko asked after waving off Sokka's apology. "It's stupid, huh?" he added, a mumble half under his breath as he pulled a pillow into his lap to cross his arms over.

Sokka inched a little bit closer, the movie forgotten and remaining paused on King Henry's face. He grimaced faintly, sagging against the cushions. "Yeah," he finally said, just above a mumble. "I mean... just because I like you doesn't mean... But, I mean..." He laughed faintly at himself, a rueful sound. "I'm used to it at school anyway. Just... not for serious." He frowned at the coffee table, displeased with his own inability to convey what he felt.

"I--" Zuko began, fell silent, opened his mouth, tried again. His own thoughts weren't coming much easier than Sokka's but it felt important. To talk about it. "I think I understand. How you feel?" he finally managed. "And it's... well, I guess the thing is, I sort of don't care anymore? Whether people think I'm... you know... gay or not." He took a breath, and rubbed faintly at his reddened cheeks. "I mean, the worst that could happen already did, right? Hah... but not... you know, for  _you_ , so... I understand that you don't want... people talking, I guess?"

A faint scowl and Sokka moved a little closer again, shoulder brushing briefly with Zuko's. "I just... I wish that's not what it meant. Cause I want to tell  _everybody_ ," he said, gaining somewhat more confidence as he spoke. "I wanna tell everybody how awesome it is and that -- that you said yes and I wanna brag about you to everyone I know. I wanna tell my dad and my sister and my grandma how happy I am -- but I can't because then it's not about that. I don't want it to be about what I am or I'm not -- I just wanna share the good stuff."

Zuko said nothing for a beat, but he leaned close, head resting on Sokka's shoulder and the hand at his knee gave a little squeeze. "I'm... sorry," he mumbled. "That it's so complicated. It's... stupid that it has to be. It's stupid that... that if one of us just had... breasts, then no one would care. Then you wouldn't have to worry about... telling your family."

Sokka let his cheek rest against Zuko's hair, nuzzling faintly. "I... I know it won't be  _horrible_ ," he said quietly. "Except maybe Katara. But it's still... scary, I guess. I... I'm really afraid of what my dad will think." He felt extremely guilty for the words -- he knew his father would never act like Zuko's father had but it was intimidating nonetheless. "I guess I just... for now, I feel like I just want to enjoy it and not worry about any of that. Is that selfish of me?"

But Zuko shook his head no, snuggling in a little closer. "It's not selfish," he said. "And well... even if it is, I want to be a little selfish too." He chuckled quietly, trying to lighten the mood. "I'm kind of afraid of the third degree interrogation your grandmother'll give me if she finds out... not to mention your sister..."

"Yeah..." Sokka sighed wistfully, settling back in to a position similar to when they'd been peacefully watching the movie. "So when I introduce you to my dad, are you gonna wear a dress?"

"Ha!" Zuko barked, giving Sokka's thigh a smart pinch. "Nice try! But he'd be more likely to fall for  _you_  in a dress than  _me_."

Sokka laughed and squirmed, though he didn't move away. "That doesn't make any sense!" he protested. "I'm his son! C'mon think about it... a nice little yellow sun dress? Maybe a bonnet?" He wasn't even trying to hold back his giggles.

"Rrr!" Zuko growled, half a laugh as he turned to tackle the other other boy back across the couch. "If you wanna see me in a dress so badly, you're gonna have to wear one first!" he teased, climbing over Sokka to dig tickling fingers in at his ribs.

Sokka writhed under him, the laughter partly from the tickling but also partly from the mental image of Zuko in a sun dress. "I didn't say I wanted to see you in a dress!" Sokka shot back, wrestling with Zuko's hands and shrieking with laughter as pillows tumbled off the couch. "I just want to see you humiliated!"

"Is that how it is, huh?" Zuko scoffed, mock-protest coloring his voice. "Well if it's a war you want..." And with no further warning, Zuko ducked down, lifted Sokka's shirt and proceeded to blow the biggest, wettest raspberry he could managed, smack in the middle of Sokka's stomach.

The complete and utter surprise of the action made Sokka positively  _scream_  through his laughter, scrabbling for Zuko's shoulders with tears pouring from his eyes. "Stop! Oh my GOD that's so GROSS!" he shrieked though the lilt of hysterical laughter betrayed his disgust.

"What's that?" Zuko wondered, grabbing for Sokka's wrists to pin him down. "Keep going? Well, okay!" And just a little slower than necessary, he took a deep breath and lowered pursed lips once more toward Sokka's stomach.

"Noooo!" Sokka protested, his bared stomach sucking in a vain attempt to escape. Then with a squirm and a jerk and a thrash of his legs, he threw Zuko off balance, using the hold on his wrists to pull him up, forward, down. And smiling lips captured that mouth with surprising skill and sureness before it could reach his skin.

"Mm!" Zuko startled, but didn't pull away, not when Sokka's mouth was warm and persuasive and all the hyperactive energy just melted away under the touch of his lips. "Mm..." he decided, kissed back until his breath ran out and with a happy sigh, he collapsed onto Sokka's chest, head tucking under his chin. "This is... really nice," he hummed. "I could stay like this all night..."

Sokka grinned softly, his arms folding lightly across Zuko's shoulders as they relaxed into the soft hold of the plush couch. "Yeah," he agreed happily, breathed a sigh that made flow from his body all the residual tension from the heavy topic that they'd left behind. Right at that moment, nothing mattered but the warm weight of the taller boy blanketing him. The smell of his hair and the breath that tickled Sokka's arm. "It's probably a good thing we decided to take the spring break trip with everyone," he remarked, brows quirking with charm that Zuko couldn't see from his position. "Otherwise we might never leave the hotel room."

Zuko chuckled quietly. "Yeah, that's true. Especially with the TV and the jacuzzi tub," he added with a grin.

They stayed like that for a while, quiet hanging comfortably between them, the faint buzz of the television the only sound in the room. They both knew the others could be back from the pool at any time, and Zuko wanted to make the most of their time alone. At the moment, there seemed no better way than this. "Hey Sokka?"

"Hm?" the younger of the pair answered, sounding just a little bit sleepy. His arms squeezed faintly at Zuko's shoulders.

"What's your dad like, anyway?"

Sokka blinked, and glanced down at the pale profile obscured by Zuko's dark hair. He frowned faintly, guilt again tugging at him. He always felt a little bad when talking about his own family considering the way that Zuko's had treated him. Even Katara, at her absolute worst was nothing compared to the way Zuko described his dragon of a sister. But... he wanted to share, especially if Zuko wanted to know. And he hoped to be able to someday introduce Zuko to his father as what he was... as his... "My dad's awesome," Sokka finally replied earnestly. "He's the smartest, coolest person I know. It sucks that we only get to see him a few times a year -- but he writes letters and calls every week. I know he feels lousy about being gone all the time but I... I dunno. It bothers me but it doesn't make me mad. I just hope I can ever be as brave as he is."

"That's... really cool," Zuko murmured, fingers playing idly in the hem of Sokka's t-shirt. "I hope I can meet him some time... you said he's got his own fishing boat?"

"A ship," Sokka corrected. "He's the captain -- he doesn't own it, but... you know. They work in the Bering Sea, mostly. When he comes home he brings lots of fish and crab, sometimes he ships stuff to us too. Once he sent us a picture of the biggest crab they ever caught -- it looked like it seriously could have snapped somebody's head off."

Zuko grinned. "You'll have to show me that photo sometime." It was nice, he reflected, talking like this. Something occurred to him then and he sat up a little, finding Sokka's face in the dim light of the TV screen. "So, that fish your grandma made the first time I came over... was that your dad's?"

"Yep," Sokka confirmed with a proud smirk. "It's the best – sometimes when they dock, he goes river fishing inland and catches salmon... I like fishing, don't get me wrong, but sometimes I think he's crazy. He works for a month fishing, then he takes a break and what does he do? He goes fishing. And then sometimes when he visits, he takes me fishing. Maybe that's why I like red meat so much."

It was late by the time the others returned from the pool, the click of their key in the lock was more than enough time for Zuko to slide to the other end of the couch, ankles still tangled with Sokka's --an innocent enough contact-- across the cushions. He raised a hand in greeting to Aang and Katara, following it up with a 'welcome back' for Toph's benefit.

Katara raised a brow at the still-paused television. "Wasn't as good as you expected?" she asked in her 'I told you so' voice.

Sokka shrugged. "It got boring," he replied with a glance at Zuko which translated it to,  _I had better things to do._

Zuko couldn't quite quell the little smirk that sprang to his lips, but he did managed to cough and reassemble his expression to something more neutral when he looked back at Katara and nodded his confirmation. "Yeah, plus Toph's dad stopped by to check in on everyone and make sure we had everything we need."

"Did you tell him to have them fill the jacuzzi with ice cream for dinner tomorrow?" Toph piped up, busily drying her hair until it floofed in a huge, messy halo. "They'd do it if I told them to."

"Ew, Toph. That's disgusting." Katara wrinkled her nose in distaste, and by the look on her brother's face, his sentiments were similar.

Zuko only laughed. "I was thinking pudding, personally."

"Ooh! How about tapioca!" Aang piped up with a grin. "I always thought it would feel neat to stick my feat in a big tub of tapioca."

"Tapioca looks like frog eggs," Sokka announced with scientific poise, and on that note, continued, "We should get some sleep or we're never going to wake up for shopping tomorrow. I will beat all of you out of bed if I have to."

Katara scoffed. "Like you'll  _ever_  be the first one awake for  _anything_. Even shopping."

"SLEEP. NOW," Sokka countered in an indignant shriek, pointing to the girl's bedroom.

Maybe he had ulterior motives for getting everyone asleep and the lights out -- but Sokka definitely didn't feel any sense of guilt as he settled under the covers for a second night of sharing a bed with Zuko. And this time, he had no hesitation or awkwardness when he snuggled close, let Zuko's arm curl around his shoulders and soaked in the sweet warmth of that body against his.

 


	26. Chapter 26

With their vacation halfway over, most of their remaining spending money had found its way out of their pockets on the second day's shopping trip. Sokka, however, had been suspiciously thrifty and exhibited a self-control that made the younger members of the party concerned that he might be ill. He wasn't completely immune to the shopping bug, though, and did buy a new bag for himself. It was a little gaudier than his battered leather messenger bag but he seemed satisfied with the purchase.

With a day and a half left, Monday morning ended up being a little bit lazy with all hotel guests sleeping late. Zuko was barely able to pry Sokka's clinging body from his person to crawl out of bed for a shower before Katara and Toph could invade the bedroom to find them snuggling sleepily under the covers. With some coaxing, half an hour later, Sokka finally stumbled toward his own shower and the group had a light breakfast together in the room, dawdling a little before finally splitting up for their plans for the day.

Sokka had previously proclaimed that he was going to spend his afternoon at an exhibit at the public library that was displaying some ancient Sanskrit texts. The younger kids stared at him with disbelief.

"You're going to spend your vacation at the library?"

It earned a haughty shrug but a nudge under the table urged Zuko into expressing his own interest in the ancient parchments. The plans were then laid to spend the day apart; the three youngest opting to spend the day at a local amusement park under the careful eye of Toph's chaperone. Sokka pouted a little inwardly at missing out on that, but in the end, spending the day alone with Zuko still easily won out.

Good-byes were waved and while Aang, Katara and Toph piled into the sleek black car provided by Toph's father. Sokka, on the other hand, hailed a cab. "That was easy enough," he said with a grin for Zuko as he opened the door for the other boy. And then with self-importance as he flopped into the tattered vinyl seat, "To the park."

"Which park, kid?" the cabbie shot back over the seat.

"The--the park!" Sokka faltered, his cockiness crushed with the man's tone. "Drop us off by the air and space museum."

"Aw," Zuko teased, buckling his seatbelt and letting his hand rest on the faux leather between them. He wanted to reach across the seats and take Sokka's hand in his, but the cab driver was a big guy and it was probably better to not take chances. "You mean we aren't really going to look at old bits of paper? You got my hopes up."

"Hey, watch it," Sokka shot back with a little grin. "The library's in the park, we can still go there after all."

Toph's family's hotel was centrally located and it was only a short trip through busy city streets before concrete and skyscrapers abruptly gave way to grass and towering trees. The road thinned and led through sloping hills decorated with ponds and rose gardens: a paradise of green right in the middle of the city. In the center of the park was the boulevard of museums where the taxi dropped them off across from a huge fountain. Old and new-looking buildings dotted the landscape in this bustling area of the park, each housing a museum with variance enough to cater to anyone's interest.

With Sokka still smirking in his air of mystery, they walked past the Air and Space museum, boasting space shuttles and early airplanes. They passed several culturally-specific museums: Hispanic history, Chinese history, Greek history. There was a children's museum, an aquarium and a museum dedicated to the history of the city. But finally, Sokka stopped in front of a stark-looking building where stuffy-looking patrons mingled.

"Here it is!" Sokka announced. The building read 'Museum of Impenetrable Modern Art'.

Zuko blinked up at the plain letters, the white concrete. He stole a quick glance at Sokka, looked back again.  _This? Really?_  He couldn't help but be a little surprised. Sokka had told him to dress a little nice -- not  _too_  nice, but nice. For this? Modern art didn't seem like Sokka's scene. It certainly wasn't Zuko's. Still, Zuko was nothing lately if not open minded. So he shrugged and began to follow Sokka toward the building. "I didn't know you were into art," he began, conversationally.

"Huh?" Sokka looked at him with first confusion and then grinning understanding. "Oh -- no, not that." He tugged at Zuko's sleeve, pulling him instead around the side of the building where a stone path led to a set of stairs that clung to the concrete, hidden by pine trees. Up the stairs (three flights in one steep go) and then cresting into the sunlight above, the secret was revealed. "This."

Atop the gray slab of a building was a smaller, glass structure that glimmered in the midday sun. A small sign proclaimed it simply as 'On The Park' and it was immediately clear why. The restaurant faced the back of the three story building which overlooked the sprawling green of the park and the city beyond in a perfect, unfettered view.

"Reservation for Sokka," the younger teen told the maitre di at the door in his best adult voice. With only the slightest lift of brow, the man checked his list, shrugged and led the two boys into the glass building.

"This... this is amazing!" Zuko murmured, looking everywhere as they were led to their table, perfectly situated to give them both access to the astonishing view. The whole restaurant gleamed with green and glass, potted plants only adding to the atmosphere and helped maintain an organic cleanness. "How did you find this place?" he wondered, grinning as he took his seat, and admired the wrought-iron work visible through the glass tabletop.

"Internet," Sokka replied. He waited for the waiter to hand over their menus and take their drink order before he spoke up again with a sheepish sort of smile. "I made the reservation two days after I asked you out."

Zuko raised his brow, impressed despite himself, not only at Sokka's forward thinking but that he might have taken him to a restaurant that  _required_ that much advance notice. Still, he couldn't help himself when the urge to tease Sokka presented itself. "Pretty confident, aren't you?" he grinned, leaning forward just a little. "Planning so far ahead. You had the reservation even before you asked me out on this date."

"Yeaaah..." Sokka rubbed at the back of his head with chagrin, his cheeks glowing faintly pink. "I knew you'd have to say yes, though."

"Oh really?" Zuko chuckled, toying idly with the edge of his water glass. "And how is that?"

"Because if you'd have said no, I would have done this." Sokka's expression melted into the most wounded, heart-broken, puppy-dog-eyed thing Zuko had ever seen.

"Oh jeez! Ah! That's terrible! Put that away!" Zuko laughed, but his expression was pained as though he really was being actively wounded by Sokka's puppy-face. "I give up! You're right anyway. I wouldn't have said no." With only the faintest hint of a blush touching his cheeks, Zuko reached across the table to take the tips of Sokka's fingers in his hand, squeezing just a little.

"Can I answer any questions you gentlemen may have about our menu?"

Both boys froze, staring up at their waiter for a moment. He just smiled down on them, a knowing, but not judgmental smile. Fingers darted away from each other, busying themselves with a water glass or a page of the menu.

"What's your soup?" Sokka managed to squeak. When the waiter stepped away to let them make their decision on the meal, he breathed a sigh of relief and looked back to Zuko over the edge of his menu. "You know... whatever you want..." he tried to sound cool, giving a shrug of shoulders that let Zuko understand why he'd been so frugal the day before.

The restaurant was a bit on the expensive side, particularly for the budget of a high school kid, but still surprisingly reasonable given the location and the popularity. The murmur of other patrons was subdued, polite and helped to set the atmosphere rather than detract from it. Zuko nodded, offered Sokka a smile, and let him have his moment. "The fish looks amazing," he commented, scanning the menu, "But... I'm sure it won't be nearly as good as what you're used to your dad bringing home. Hm... Maybe we could get two things and share?" he suggested hopefully. At least then, they'd only have to narrow down their choices to two.

Sokka agreed readily and when their order had been placed, the boys settled in comfortably to enjoy the view through the slightly-tinted glass. The younger of the pair chuckled a little as he relaxed in the embrace of his seat, toying with the straw in his soda. "Pretty big change of pace, huh? From hanging out with the whole gang?"

"It's almost too quiet," Zuko chuckled, reaching for a piece of bread. "But then again... not really." He buttered the slice of sourdough and handed it to Sokka before helping himself.

A little smile conveyed appreciation and as they waited for the meal, the conversation faded into comfortable small talk about the city, the park, the view, their plans for tomorrow. Then Sokka cleared his throat quietly, as though working up courage for something. "You're probably gonna think I'm really dumb..." he prefaced, fidgeting a little. "But... I kinda... got you something. Well, not really  _got_  but... I know I got you those swords but that was different -- that was before we -- well, and this is like... you know, from the heart or whatever..." It was an extremely difficult balance to find, between being the macho friend that Zuko knew and the sensitive romantic that showered his girlfriends with gifts and attention. He offered a tiny grin as he dug in his new bag and produced an oblong, wrapped object about the size of a dinner plate.

Zuko stared at the package in his hand, surprised once more by Sokka's actions, his seemingly spontaneous generosity. "Can I open it now?" he wondered, smiling across the table, cheeks a pleased pink. When Sokka nodded nervously, the paper was torn away and the gift held carefully in both hands, Zuko took another look at it, smiled and met Sokka's gaze. "Sokka... it's so... um... what is it? Oh! Is that a train there?" What he held in his hands appeared to be a wooden disk -- stained an attractive, rich redwood color and beveled nicely around the edges. Toward the middle of the disk were two pegs and curving along the bottom of it was... something. Whatever the something was, it was burned meticulously into the wood.

"Actually, it's a dragon," Sokka said, mostly unphased but still a little chagrined. "See the whiskers? It's -- well, you can use it to display your swords, if you want."

"Oh! I see it now!" Zuko returned quickly, a little embarrassed, but recovering quick enough to offer Sokka a winning grin. "You made this?"

"Yeah. In shop." His voice just couldn't decide between confidence and humiliation. "I just... wanted to give you something that really came from  _me_ , you know?"

For a moment, Zuko just -looked-, just met the eyes of the boy across from him, just quietly reveled in the moment. Then he reached across the table once more, found and took hold of Sokka's hand. "It'll look amazing on my wall. Thank you."

Sokka tried very hard to maintain his cool, to school his expression into something suave and attractive. Mostly he just grinned like an idiot, beaming at the very unusual appreciation of his artistic skills. "Sure," was all he could come up with, utterly smitten.

It was then that their lunch arrived and Zuko hurried to make room, tucking the gift away again in Sokka's bag for safekeeping. The food was well-worth the price and extended reservation and Sokka swore up and down that someday he was going to eat like this  _every_  day.

Zuko laughed, but he couldn't help agreeing.

After lunch, they walked out into the park grounds, letting the sun hit their faces and the food in their stomachs digest.

"I hope you'll let me take you to one of the museums," Zuko said suddenly, interrupting the comfortable silence that hung between them. "Since you took us out for lunch and everything..."

"Oh, sure! That sounds nice." Then he snickered and bumped playfully against Zuko's shoulder. "Are you feeling the need for impenetrable modern art now?" he teased.

"Not exactly." Zuko rolled his eyes, but bumped back with a smirk. "But I hear the natural history museum has a live ten foot alligator. Or is that too cultured for you?"

"That sounds awesome! I bet they've got all sorts of dead, taxidermed stuff too. Let's go!"

Sokka couldn't help but be reminded of their first outing together, the horribly awkward, dreary afternoon in their own small, local museum. He let Zuko purchase their tickets and stayed close as they wandered into the first exhibit in the towering and expansive museum. Above them swam a bare whale's skeleton, to their left a wall of huge fossils, straight ahead a roaring tyrannosaurus frozen in time.

"Dinosaurs?" he suggested with a grin.

"Dinosaurs," Zuko agreed.

It took the better part of an hour to make their way through the dinosaur exhibit and halfway through the history of man wing. The weapons display wasn't quite as impressive as the traveling exhibit that they'd explored back home, but the in house Egyptian artifacts made up for it.

"Oh look," Zuko grabbed hold of Sokka's sleeve, tugging him closer to point at plasma screen display just outside the glass case housing the museum's most famous mummy. "It's an x-ray of the insides!"

"He just doesn't look as good as on the outside," Sokka joked, arching a brow at the painted sarcophagus that boasted of the visage within. "Really, no amount of make-up is going to hide that." Then, feeling particularly bold, he slid his hand into Zuko's. His expression never betrayed him, as though he hadn't noticed what he'd done. There was, after all, no one that they could run in to from home here. No danger of bumping into a classmate who was working on the same project. They might get some disapproving looks from sour-faced mothers but that he could handle. The safety of it was freeing.

Zuko spent exactly half of one breath with his eyes on Sokka's profile, wondering at the younger boy's sudden gumption before giving a mental shrug and a physical smile and squeezing at the fingers entwined with his. "True," Zuko answered, only a slight delay in the conversation. "But you must admit he looks good for his age!"

Sokka gave a bark of laughter. "Ah-- good one!" He resisted the urge to press in tighter to the other boy, instead only gripping Zuko's hand tight as they wandered away from the exhibit. He couldn't hide his broad grin though, feeling a keen sense of appreciation for the sense of humor that he'd seen develop in Zuko since they'd met, as they'd grown more comfortable. He felt his chest tighten a little, felt more than a little giddy as they so brazenly showed affection in an open, public place.

"So. Where to next then? Alligators? Old West? 1:3 scale replica of Mayan columns?" Zuko was almost laughing, no sign of wanting to take his hand back and indeed with every other step his shoulder bumped Sokka's.

They wandered through the old west until rolling prairies and six shooters gave way to the Savannah and snarls of massive, stuffed lions. Then they had a stroll through a misty rain forest where exotic birds glimmered in all their time-frozen glory, and Sokka insisted that he could totally take the gorilla that had its head thrown back and huge fists beating its chest. The light only grew dimmer as they traveled through both time and ecosystems, entering an age of prehistoric fish with blue light that plunged them into the depths of a mural of ancient sea creatures.

"Oh, check it out. There's an exhibit of live jellyfish!"

The lights dimmed only further and the temperature dropped abruptly as they walked down the corridor that led to the exhibit, walls lined with plaques full of information and illustrations. The invertebrates were kept in separate little rooms, each tank lit with eerie blue lights that made the ethereal creatures glow and pulse in rainbow colors. Tiny gumdrop-shaped jellyfish darted through the water and glimmered with multicolored light. In another room, orange ones that looked like mushrooms moved slowly and fluidly. The exhibit was quiet, as though demanding a hushed awe from the few patrons that wandered from tank to tank.

Sokka whistled low as they stood before a large, circular glass where two huge specimens swam so slowly that they barely moved. With purplish domes, their tendrils were pink frills -- but also incredibly long, almost translucent tentacles that snaked all around the tank. They were so mingled together that it was impossible to tell one from the other as the two animals swam their slow circle around the glass.

"Wow," Sokka murmured, his shoulder brushing Zuko's as they watched the hypnotic movement. "They're all tangled up -- there must be knots in there! How do you think they get undone?"

"Maybe they don't want to," Zuko breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. His upturned face was aglow with the light from the tank, the pulsing pinks and shivering teals, his lips only just barely parted as he watched, awed.

"Yeah..." Sokka murmured, eyes on the slowly swirling movement for a moment longer, his fingers threaded with Zuko's squeezing faintly. But then his gaze was drawn to the profile cast in shifting light and he felt the moment when his heartbeat started to increase. He leaned a little into Zuko's warm arm, thumb stroking idly at the other boy's hand.

The moment that Zuko looked away from the tank and met Sokka's eyes, he was drawn out slowly with a certain reluctance to turn away from the creatures floating, tangling together. But when he had, when he found Sokka's gaze on him, he found himself equally --no, more than that-- caught by the blue of the younger boy's eyes and Zuko had to wonder why he'd thought that anything could be more interesting. Fingers tightened in turn, drawing him just a little closer, chin dipping low enough to show the hint of a smile asking to be shared. And a little smile quirked Sokka's mouth in return, as the other boy basked in a moment of quiet, perfect privacy. In the contrast of Zuko's warmth to the chilled air. In the gold glow of his eyes in the dim blue light. Zuko's heart thundered as he turned his head, tipped his chin just the barest to even the slight height difference between them. Eyes slipped blissfully shut when he felt Sokka's breath tickle his lips.

"HEY YOU GUYS!"

It was really a wonder that no one was injured in this particular incident. Somehow, they both managed to avoid bashing skulls or breaking teeth against one another. Mostly because Sokka recoiled like lightning, stumbling once and falling heavily into the black wall with an extremely unmanly shriek. "JESUS CHRIST, AANG!"

Before Aang could answer, a young woman with two children and a sour expression turned her attention on them and announced, "The zoo is down the street." Zuko bit back the urge to ask if that's where she was planning to ditch her two little blond monkeys. Aang only cheerily --and with some measure of confusion-- thanked her.

"Huh, that's weird. I mean, we already went to the zoo, and how would she know that anyway?" He rubbed at his chin thoughtfully, oblivious to the way that Sokka was still waiting for his heart-rate to return to normal.

Sokka raked a shaky hand through his hair. "Aang -- what are you doing here? I thought you guys were going to the amusement park!"

"Yeah, we were, but we got bored once we'd gone on every ride we could." He leaned closer, whispering conspiratorially. "They wouldn't let Toph on a bunch of them cause she was too short."

"I heard that!" another familiar voice snapped. "Nice try Twinkle Toes, but I think it had more to do with the weight limit and your scrawny frame!"

Katara just rolled her eyes as the two girls wandered into the small room that had moments earlier provided the most perfect, intimate moment that Sokka had ever experienced. He could almost imagine the shattered shards of time littering the floor as he suppressed the urge to slap himself -- repeatedly -- in the forehead. This was NOT happening.

"And what about you two?" Katara asked with an arched brow. "What happened to the library?"

"Oh, it wasn't as interesting as we'd hoped," Zuko cut in, offering Katara a cheerful smile. "So we found something better to do." A glanced over his shoulder to Sokka sought confirmation for his story.

"Awww, did you guys already go see the dinosaurs?" Aang pouted, flopping back against the wall beside Sokka.

"Yes," Sokka said, managing somehow to keep the groan out of his voice. "We've been through about half the museum." There would be no escaping this. Their date was ruined.

"Well now we can go through the other half together," Katara said cheerfully, like nails on a chalkboard.

"But Katara... dinosaurs!" Aang frowned and put on his best puppy face. A trick, Zuko guessed, that he must have learned from Sokka.

"I want to go to the African animals exhibit," Toph interjected, in her very best 'you-don't-argue-with-the-blind-girl' voice. "It's one of the only places here that actually  _sounds_  as cool as you guys say it looks."

"Well, how about this," Zuko spoke up, before Katara had a chance to protest. "Sokka and I have already been through both of those and there's a room full of sea life that you'd probably enjoy," he nodded to Katara. "So, why don't we split up, finish exploring the museum at our own pace and meet up for dinner at say... 5:30?"

Sokka had to hold back everything in him to keep his eyes from sparkling with joy and adoration. Instead he managed to give his most thoughtful, sage nod, mouth tugging froggishly at the corners. Aang was pouting already though, clearly growing weary of always being stuck with the girls.

Toph, however, had no such qualms and quipped, "Works for me. C'mon, Stick Boy." She swiped to snag Aang's arm and haul him up. "See you suckers later." And as she shooed the younger party members out of the room, she looked over her shoulder in the general direction of Zuko's voice and gave a huge, obvious wink. And though Katara had already wandered out in front of them, Aang caught it and stared. Then looked back at Zuko and Sokka. And stared at Toph again, eyes like saucers as she tugged him around the corner. Sokka was still leaning against the wall when his wide, gleaming grin lit up the dim little room.

"So." Zuko wandered back over, took a spot beside Sokka, ever casual and cocked a brow his way. "I done good?"

"Very. Very good." They wouldn't be able to risk anymore public displays of affection, not when his sister and cohorts might cross their paths at any moment. But right then, he took one last risk and pressed a quick kiss to Zuko's mouth. It would have to do for now -- but there would be many more to come when the lights went out at the hotel later that night.

 


	27. Chapter 27

Things began to settle in to something comfortable in the following weeks. Sokka spent most of his free afternoons at Iroh's house but for the occasional swap where Sokka invited Zuko over for dinner with GranGran and the rest of their friends. For the most part, however, both were more comfortable at Zuko's place, where there wasn't anyone to keep secrets from and there was a Pai Sho game or two to be had while Zuko tackled extra homework.

It was obvious that Toph had figured it out -- Sokka concluded this when one day she tried to give him a high-five for no apparent reason and ended up slapping him in the face instead. He didn't mention his suspicion of Toph's suspicion to Zuko, however. He trusted Toph not to tell -- she only spread rumors when they were fake, anyway.

Everything was just right. The two of them were growing more and more comfortable but with a certain understanding. Neither wanted to move too quickly, though there were a few times that almost gave them second thoughts. But when things started getting out of hand -- when they were getting tangled in Zuko's sheets and hands were gripping harder and little sounds starting to emerge -- one of them would always manage to break away, sometimes with a gasp, to notice how late it was.

At school it was easier to remember self-control; with so much opportunity for accidental sighting by teachers, they didn't often risk affectionate contact on school grounds. Still, if the occasion presented itself...

That day, Aang and Toph had taken most of their lunch time to work on a class project together and after twenty minutes of awkward conversation, Katara had suddenly announced that she had a library book to return and left Zei's classroom.

When the door shut behind her, Zuko continued to eat the apple he'd brought, but after a minute, found himself sneaking covert glances across the desk to where Sokka lounged, backward in a plastic chair.

Though he'd been kind of spacing out, Sokka's eyes focused when he caught Zuko looking at him. "What? Do I have something on my face?"

Zuko just shook his head, but then looked over his shoulder to the classroom door. "We're alone," he pointed out, and set aside his apple core to slide a hand across the desk, pale fingers seeking out Sokka's hand, ghosting suggestively across his darker skin.

Sokka blinked once, then grinned faintly, mischievously. "Yeah," he agreed. "And almost half an hour till lunch is over... That's pretty convenient." He moved his hand only to shove the scraps of his lunch back in their bag which he then dropped to the floor. Then he was standing to hop up on to the desk, swinging his legs around so that he was sitting on Zuko's side of it, feet dangling over the edge.

"Come down here," Zuko chided, reaching up to tug at the front of Sokka's shirt, pulling him into an arch and lifting his own chin to meet. "I can't reach," he complained, tongue snaking out uselessly touching the air inches from Sokka's mouth.

"Mmm..." Sokka hummed with chagrin, though more than easily seduced by this display. He looked at Zuko for a moment before sliding from the table and right into his lap, straddling the taller boy's thighs. "That better?" he teased, curling his arms around Zuko's neck.

"Much."

He was tugged forward again, Zuko's to nose at his throat, a trail of kisses from the angle of his jaw until he reached the other's lips with a pleased sound. Sokka gasped quietly, his eyes wide when there was first a nip at his lower lip and then the warmth of a hungry kiss. A shiver rippled up his spine, chased by Zuko's hands. He gave the tiniest little groan, shifting forward a little more as he returned Zuko's kisses, a hand squeezing at the back of his neck. He'd expected maybe some kissing, a little teasing but this... He could have wrapped his legs around the other boy's waist easily, a fact that did not escape him when he noticed how close they were. He liked it -- it thrilled him to think that Zuko enjoyed this enough to do it in a place like this. He licked at the other boy's mouth, humming happily when he found the sticky sweet flavor of apple still there and stole it for himself, sucking it from Zuko's lips and dipping his tongue inside to sample the sweetness mixed with Zuko's own taste. Zuko kissed back with equal enthusiasm, hands curling around to the small of Sokka's back, encouraging the closeness. He wasn't sure why, what had gotten into him to want to do this  _here_  of all places, a public school classroom, but mostly he wasn't thinking at all. And when his kisses trailed from the corner of Sokka's mouth to find and take up an ear, he more or less stopped thinking entirely.

It was all Sokka could do to keep from groaning as Zuko nibbled at his sensitive earlobe and arms slid around Zuko's shoulders. Nails tickled at his neck even as Sokka murmured encouragements into the other boy's ear, shivering happily when he kissed and nipped lightly behind his ear. Sokka closed his eyes blissfully, cheek pressed into Zuko's hair as he soaked in the attention, breathing deeply. His eyes slit open as he nuzzled deeper into raven hair and dumbly registered movement from the corner of his eye. And then he realized what it was. And it was far too late to do anything but stiffen like a board, eyes flying open and cheek still pressed into Zuko's hair as he made eye contact with his sister from the doorway.

"Oh. My. GOD," Katara turned away violently, seemed almost about to leave, then a hand snapped out to support herself against the door frame and she stood there, not looking.

At the sound of the girl's voice, Zuko jerked and looked up into Sokka's shell shocked face. "Shit," he breathed, and pulled his hands away from Sokka's waist. He then lifted one to smooth out his hair as best he could, determined somehow to maintain some sort of dignity.

Sokka on the other hand, all but fell out of Zuko's lap, scrambling to stand on his own feet. Finally, he managed to find his voice. "K-Katara! This isn't what it looks like! We were just -- uh --"

"Oh my god," Katara repeated. "You were just  _what_? Sokka, are you out of your mind?!" She didn't appear to have quite worked up the nerve to turn back around.

Zuko sighed and stood as well, brushing the wrinkles from his shirt as he joined Sokka, looking between him and his sister, waiting to see what would happen next.

"N-no!" Sokka hurried to protest -- QUICK QUICK EXCUSE NOW -- "We were just -- we were -- practicing! For when we get girlfriends! Don't girls ever do that? Guys do it all the time!"

Zuko arched an eyebrow, turning to stare skeptically down at the other boy. Katara sneaked a brief look over her shoulder and finally turned when she saw both of them standing.

"Yeah, Sokka sure. Only most guys your ages stopped practicing when you were EIGHT. Seventeen-year-olds don't--! Oh my god. Oh my god! I can't believe I'm having this conversation with you! I can't believe you think I'm that stupid!"

"I didn't think, I only hoped!" Sokka said helplessly. There was nothing he could say. She wasn't going to believe any lie and there was nothing he could do to redeem himself. "L-Look, it's not that big a deal, okay!? Don't freak out!"

"I'm not freaking out! You've just gone crazy! You must have!" Katara shook her head, one hand held to her brow.

"He's not crazy," Zuko cut in. "And neither am I." He stepped closer then, lifting a hand to rest it reassuringly on Sokka's shoulder.

Sokka's eyes turned to the other boy, wide with surprise. "Zuko, it's okay," he said quietly, guilt suddenly gnawing at his chest. "This is my problem. You don't have to. Why don't we meet up after school?"

Zuko frowned, looking between the two siblings with some amount of reservation. He didn't want to leave, to abandon Sokka to the mercy of his sister, but he knew he aught to respect Sokka's wishes. "Are you sure?" he asked quietly, rubbing faintly at the tension he could already feel in the other boy's shoulders.

Sokka hesitated, avoiding Zuko's eyes. Honestly, he wasn't sure at all. He had no idea what he was going to say to his sister and was a little terrified to be left alone with her. But it wasn't fair to Zuko to make him endure this. He'd had to deal with enough abuse centering on this sort of thing. So he shook himself, reaching up to give Zuko's hand a squeeze and shook his head. "It's okay."

Zuko too, hesitated but finally nodded. "Okay. Call me if you need anything," he insisted, then let his hand slide from Sokka's shoulder and his feet carry him to the door, meeting Katara's glare with calm disinterest as he stepped past her.

Katara held her ground, brow furrowing deeper as the older boy moved past, but she said nothing, let her eyes instead settle on her brother's face in silence.

For a long moment, Sokka avoided his sister's gaze but when he finally looked up at her scowling face, a defensive sort of irritation suddenly flared up in him. "What!?" he demanded hotly. "It's not like you guys haven't been making fun of me about this sort of thing since, I dunno, FOREVER. It's not THAT much of a shock, I'm sure!"

Katara face was red with anger, embarrassment too, most likely, and her arms were crossed firmly over her chest. For a long moment it seemed like she wasn't going to speak at all, and then a deep breath signaled the beginning. "Of course it's a shock, Sokka! There's a difference between ...  _teasing_  and actually... finding..." She waved vaguely in the general direction of the chair they'd been sharing. "I can't believe you'd be stupid enough to do that sort of thing at  _school_! Where anyone could catch you! With  _him_! What if Aang had found you? Or Toph?"

"Toph's BLIND!" Sokka shot back, tossing his hands up. "I would have preferred one of them to catch us! They already know!"

" _What_?!" Katara's biting question held just the faintest edge of hurt. "And when were you planning on telling  _me_? Your own sister? Sokka!"

"I don't know!" Sokka said helplessly, pressing the heels of his palms to his temples. "When I got over the fear that you'd tell Dad and GranGran and I'd get kicked out of my home like Zuko did?!"

Katara was ready with fresh vitriol on her tongue, ready to lash back at her brother in hurt and anger, but what Sokka said made her own retort die in her throat. "Are you saying his dad beat him up because...?" she trailed off, blanching suddenly.

"Yes," Sokka said with a scowl, crossing his arms over his chest. He deflated a little then. "I mean -- not because of me but because of – that.” He sighed and co lapsed into a chair. He'd been doing such a good job of completely ignoring reality. He'd done too good a job of it, apparently and he felt like it was crashing in around him. He knew he'd have to face this eventually but it felt so soon.

Katara hesitated, quiet for a minute before latching the door behind her and taking a seat near Sokka. "Dad wouldn't ever do something like that. GranGran either."

"How do you know?" Sokka muttered. "It's not like we've ever talked to them about it. You're pissed off and you didn't  _raise_  me."

"I'm pissed off because you let me find out in the worst possible way!" Katara shot back. "Maybe if you tried having a rational conversation like an adult would..." She shook her head, then turned to fix Sokka with an unyielding stare. "Dad would  _never_  hit you. And you know it."

"I know that," Sokka pouted. "But that doesn't mean he wouldn't get mad. Or be disappointed or disgusted. Give me a break, Katara, it's only been like a few weeks!"

"Then maybe you should be more careful about when and where you... sit in Zuko's lap," Katara answered, scowling darkly. "I love you, Sokka. And whatever you might think of me, I care about your feelings. So if you don't want me to tell anyone, I won't. But anyone else could have walked through that door instead of me! If you don't want people to know, then don't be stupid about it."

"Okay, okay!" Sokka groaned, burying his face in his hands out of embarrassment "I admit, that was stupid! We... weren't thinking," he mumbled, adding, "We've never done anything like that at school before." He looked at her, askance, brows turned up pathetically. "Are you totally grossed out?"

Katara sniffed faintly, looking away with a sigh. "Yes, of course I am!" she finally said. "But I would have been grossed out even if I'd found you with, you know, a girl. I mean, you're my brother, Sokka! Ew! I don't want to think about you sucking face with anyone!"

At this, Sokka couldn't help but laugh, if a little ruefully. "I guess I can understand that," he said sheepishly. He plucked at the knee of his jeans for a moment, looking down. "Sorry I didn't tell you," he mumbled.

"Well you should be," Katara sniffed disapprovingly. "But... I guess I kind of understand why you didn't..."

"What was I supposed to say?" Sokka asked, but it was much more helpless and less defensive and angry. "Hey Katara guess what! I'm dating a guy -- and not just any guy but that one that you REALLY dislike!"

Katara had the grace at least to flush faintly, twisting a lock of hair between her fingers. "Okay, okay, I get it. Anyway, whatever. But don't think I won't keep my eye on him. Someone's gotta look out for you."

"Katara..." Sokka whined, pained. "Thanks... I think? Just don't be mean to him, okay? He's been through a lot..."

"Alright, alright. I'll...  _try_ to give your delicate ... boyfriend the benefit of the doubt. But don't think I won't come down on him like the wrath of god if he screws with you --or any of our friends-- in any way." She couldn't give up  _everything_  that made her a sister.

"That's all I can ask for," Sokka said, giving her a grateful look. "That and that you don't tell  _anybody_." Not that he expected it to be a problem. It wasn't exactly bragging rights to tell everyone at school that her brother was queer and dating the transfer delinquent.

And indeed, Katara's immediate reaction was to hold up both hands. "Trust me, I won't." The two siblings then lapsed into an awkward sort of silence. "So..." she began again when it was too much to take. "Are you like... done with girls now or...?"

"No!" Sokka yelped, interrupting her. "Nononono, it's not like that. It's not a gay thing. It's just -- uh --" Oh hell. "It's just a Zuko thing?" he tried.

"Uh huh..." Katara raised a brow, nodded vaguely without really seeming to get it. "You're not gay, you just happen to like guys if they're thin, Asian and scarred. Oookay... well!" She shrugged. "Whatever paddles your canoe."

Sokka palmed his face, not really wanting to tell Katara that was pretty much it exactly. "I'm just saying -- I don't NOT like girls. Girls are great! This is just... an exception, or something. I don't know! I didn't even think about it until I found out that he had -- in the past -- you know what, I'm going to shut up now."

"I've gotta get to library anyway," Katara said, biting her tongue against the urge to accuse Zuko of being responsible for making her brother gay. She sighed, stood, and retrieved the notebook she'd come back for in the first place "Look... just-- be careful, okay? He's clearly got issues... just don't let them drag you down."

Sokka's jaw set a little, his defenses rising again, this time for Zuko instead of himself. It was so irritating, though, because he knew that nothing he could say would sway her opinion. She still had no idea who Zuko was. "Whatever," he responded shortly, turning to his own business of gathering his things.

Katara sighed, unsatisfied by their conversation, but at least calmer than she'd been. "I'll see you after school," she offered, sneaking one more glance before she left the room.

The older sibling sank into a chair when she was gone, rubbing his temples and feeling exhausted. He kind of wished that he hadn't told Zuko to go. At least then he'd be there now. He wanted the day to be over.

 


	28. Chapter 28

Irritatingly enough, after the incident with Katara, it was a soccer day and again Sokka was tempted to skip, especially when he met Zuko outside the school after last class. But he figured kicking something for an hour or two would probably relieve a little of his tension so he gave in. And though it did make him feel a little better, he knew there was something that would make him feel  _a lot_  better. So, flopping down in the grass and waving good-bye to his team mates, he fished in his bag for his phone.

_Can I come over?_

It was hardly a minute later than his phone chirped a reply.

_yeah of course_

_Thanks_ was all he sent back. Twenty minutes later when he showed up at Zuko's door, he was still in his grass-stained soccer gear, sweaty and a little embarrassed to let Zuko see him such a mess.

"Sorry," Sokka said as the other boy let him in. "I'm all gross. Do you mind if I use your shower really quick? I didn't want to go home first..."

"I don't mind," Zuko said, eyes on Sokka as he closed the door behind him. "I-I mean, yeah, sure. It's- well, you know where the bathroom is. Um. I'll get you a clean towel."

"Thanks," Sokka said with a fond grin. He felt the tension starting to bleed out when he'd walked in the house and the shower helped a lot. He would have lingered for a long time if it weren't for the awareness that Zuko was just a few doors down. That thought made him hasten to get back into clean clothes, his hair still damp when he slipped into Zuko's room to find him at his desk.

Stepping up behind the other boy, he put his arms around Zuko's shoulders, resting his chin lightly on dark hair. "Hey."

Zuko smiled and set down his pen, closing the textbook he hadn't really been reading anyway. "Hey," he answered, lifting both hands to take Sokka's wrists. "Feel better?"

"Yeah," Sokka murmured, taking a moment to press his nose into Zuko's hair. "I guess so." He was feeling a little self-conscious about coming over for exactly this - that he was still a little shaken up from the afternoon and wanted Zuko's comfort. He didn't want the other boy to think that he was some needy wuss... but the truth was that sometimes he  _was_ and this was one of those moments.

"Is she really mad?" Zuko asked gently, a little guilty for having left even though Sokka had insisted. His fingers tightened a little on Sokka's arms, not turning around just yet, but letting Sokka take his time.

"I- I honestly don't know," Sokka sighed. He pulled away to flop backwards onto Zuko's bed. "I think she's more mad that I didn't tell her than anything else. And she's being stupid and overprotective. Like I can't think for myself or something. But at least she's not going to tell."

Zuko nodded, quietly thoughtful for a moment before he stood and followed Sokka, easing onto the edge of the mattress and reaching out for the other boy's hand, squeezing it before pulling back and running a hand through his own hair. "Think she'll get used to it?" he asked, and tried not to sound too hopeful.

"Probably," Sokka said with a shrug. "But she'll probably be a real jerk about it for a little while. Especially to you." He was pouting full on now, feeling the same way he had when he'd finished the conversation with Katara. "C'mere," he mumbled, grabbing for Zuko's wrist and pulling him down onto the bed, demanding his attention.

"I'm glad you came over," Zuko said, when his nose was just inches from Sokka's, chest to chest as he leaned over the younger boy. "I couldn't concentrate at all after lunch," he admitted, cheeks just tinted pink. Sokka's skin was still warm from his shower.

Finally Sokka laughed, a genuine smile appearing. He lifted a hand to place on Zuko's side. "Because of my sister or because of making out?" he asked, teasing.

Zuko chuckled. "A little of both, I suppose," he admitted, "But I was talking about being interrupted in the middle of something so nice." A quick dip of his head, and he lay a chaste kiss and then another on either side of Sokka's mouth.

"Mm..." Sokka grinned faintly up at him. "It was pretty nice," he answered and bravely let his hand slide under Zuko's shirt - his skin was always so warm. "We could pick up where we left off..." he murmured across Zuko's lips.

"If you're not too worn out from soccer," Zuko shrugged, mostly failing to keep his voice teasingly indifferent as his hand found the back of Sokka's neck, and drew him up into a teasing kiss.

Sokka pouted into the kiss, his fingers moving to tickle faintly at Zuko's ribs. "Don't underestimate me..." he warned when Zuko jerked back, smirking up at the other boy.

Zuko pursed his lips, a huff of stifled laughter as he leaned back down, pressed his brow to Sokka's. "I would never," he promised, thumb stretching to graze as Sokka's jaw.

He was rewarded with a happy sigh. Sokka was unable to help himself as he soaked up Zuko's attention, arching his neck a little so that lips brushed again. "I just... wanted to do this all day," he murmured, a little embarrassed. His hands moved, arms lightly circling Zuko's neck instead, fingers trailing as he closed his eyes and kissed softly at Zuko's mouth.

And there was just something about it. Something that eased all tension from both of them, that reminded them they were in a place where they could just... relax. "So did I," Zuko breathed, not even pulling away enough to break contact. "I- I really..." He trailed off, distracted by the curve of Sokka's mouth, the expectant set of his brow. Zuko chuckled quietly and kissed him again, deeper this time, hungrier, remembering how he'd felt earlier that day, in the classroom.

Zuko's enthusiasm was responded to in suit, Sokka's arms around his neck tightening a little, feeling his heart speed up as Zuko pressed him gently into the mattress. Fingers threaded into the older boy's hair, drawing and coaxing their touches even deeper. Finally relaxation did reach him and Zuko could feel as tension melted away beneath his lips from his high-strung partner. And then Sokka was nibbling at his lower lip, slowly but playfully - completely at ease. There was no sense of expectation or threat of disappointment hanging over them here, and not for the first time it registered to Sokka how natural everything felt when he was with Zuko, touching Zuko. It just  _was_ and it felt good. Indeed it seemed the most natural thing Zuko could think of to slide a hand under the edge of Sokka's tee, warmth smoothing over hidden muscle, the strength concealed in Sokka's deceptively slender frame.

"Does that feel okay?" he breathed, kissing at Sokka's throat between each word.

"Yeah..." Sokka murmured back, shivering faintly at the heat of Zuko's mouth on sensitive places. "Feels really good..." He tensed a little when Zuko's hand dipped further beneath his clothes, feeling self conscious but not nearly enough to say anything about it. The pros of the other boy's touch far outweighed that single con. Breath slowed, Sokka feeling very warm between his shower heated skin and Zuko's attention.

Zuko sighed happily, kissed beneath Sokka's jaw, his hand sliding over the other's skin, slipping underneath, fingers pressing in the small of his back. "You feel..." he shook his head, kissed again.

 _Amazing_ , he finished in his head. And he knew then that he wanted more than this, than chaste kisses and aching touches. He wanted to do all the things he'd done before, wandered how they'd be different with Sokka. But it was fast. Too soon, he knew, no matter how his stomach twisted at not taking advantage of it. He titled Sokka's chin then, the kiss he offered deep and demanding.

Sokka sank only too eagerly into the kiss, his mouth welcoming Zuko's and tongue reaching for a sample of his taste. He breathed a sigh between Zuko's lips, arms tightening around his shoulders as his tongue lightly brushed at Zuko's. The soft, warm sensation made him feel heady, made him desperate for more while at the same time frightening him to some degree with his own want. But his neck arched and he pushed his mouth firmer against Zuko's, unwavering. Wanting.

A deep rumble of pleasure slid between them. Zuko's hands tightened on the soft flesh of Sokka's side as his tongue followed his voice, demanding entry into Sokka's mouth, caught up in the moment, excited by the other's tentative touches. Had his mouth not been so occupied, Sokka would have cursed, for the way Zuko's tongue felt, pushing limits that they hadn't yet set with its temptation. He wrestled the other boy's tongue with his own, sucking, stroking, fingers tangling and clenching in his hair so that he couldn't get away. Part of him - the part of him that had experience in these matters - wanted to push Zuko down, press him into the blankets. There was still that thrill of fear though, his mind racing too far ahead and not really having thought what would come after this. He had a few ideas though and they made his cheeks flush just thinking about them and before he could stop himself, a moan was slipping free of his throat, felt on Zuko's tongue.

Zuko swallowed the sound, stole away his taste, every second that passed pulling him closer to the unspoken limits they'd yet to cross. It was hard, though, to separate his sense from his desires and Sokka, flushed and wanting and laid out beneath him, just waiting for what he might do next... was an invitation impossible to refuse. He paused only long enough to draw a steadying breath, and then his mouth was on Sokka's jaw, on his throat, and his touch sliding from Sokka's side back to the hot skin of his stomach, then higher, pushing the edge of Sokka's t-shirt as he moved.

Roaming fingers elicited a sigh - cool air on his heated skin - and then a gasp as Zuko's warm fingers brushed tentatively, lightly, maybe even on accident over a nipple that instantly hardened, over-eager. There was a brief moment where Sokka thought there was no way he could stop, not with Zuko kissing his throat like that and his heart racing and arousal pooling in his stomach and his fingers itching to touch more, to pull at buttons and taste more places. But before abandon was able to set in, he reached for the other boy's shoulders, just barely easing him away, not wanting him to feel like he was being pushed away.

"Zuko..." he murmured and a sheepish, helpless laugh fell from his lips, good natured. "We probably shouldn't..." Ugh, those were difficult words to force out. Blue eyes were apologetic and his flushing cheeks communicated that there was definitely a difference of opinion between body and mind.

Zuko stilled quickly, shaken from the spell by Sokka's voice. Though his fingers lingered a moment longer, after a breath Zuko withdrew his hand, reluctantly tugging Sokka's shirt back into place as he did. "Mm." He nodded, flushed pink, and more than a little embarrassed. "Yeah," he breathed, arms still bracing him in an arch over Sokka's body. He couldn't quite meet those eyes and he licked his lips nervously, willing his pulse to slow. "Yeah, you're right," he mumbled, loathe to admit it. But if both of them weren't completely ready, it wasn't worth it, no matter how good his body told him it might feel. "Sorry... I just-"

"I know," Sokka interrupted, grinning into Zuko's cutely embarrassed face. He hadn't really moved either and let a hand slide from the other's hair to instead rub at his neck. "I... I want to just... maybe not just yet," he murmured, swallowed and pulled Zuko in to nuzzle the bridges of their noses together. "It's awful hard to stop though..."

"Yeah," Zuko breathed back, in total agreement with that observation at least. After another moment, he eased himself down onto the bed beside Sokka, head on his shoulder and knees touching his thigh. "Yeah," he said again, when he was somewhat settled, hand on Sokka's middle, a much more innocent touch than moments before. "I... I don't want to push you. You know, if it's just... if you aren't, you know... ready." He realized then that he had no knowledge of this part of Sokka's past. He knew he'd had a girlfriend, but he didn't know... anything else, if that meant he had any sort of experience with... anything like this. The thought helped sober Zuko somewhat.

Similar thoughts were mirrored in Sokka's mind as he reached back to tuck the pillow under his head. He relaxed a little, arm curling around Zuko's shoulders while the other hand rested on Zuko's on his own stomach. A few slow, deep breaths made his racing heart calm down a little and made the excitement in his belly slowly start to fade. He swallowed and turned his head to press his nose into the pleasant smell of Zuko's hair for a moment. He didn't know if it was okay to ask but he really wanted to know. If only because there was a certain determination that lingered in the back of his mind that told him he had to do _everything_  better than Jet. He had to make the sacrifice that Zuko was making to be absolutely worth it in every way... "Did you ever..." he murmured against Zuko's temple. "I mean - when you and Jet..."

The older boy said nothing for a moment, surprised to hear from Sokka's mouth the same question he'd almost asked. "Um," Zuko began, flushing to even bring it up. "Yeah... we- uh, yeah," he finished lamely. Neither he, nor Jet had taken their relationship particularly slowly, each too desperate for something to wait. He couldn't say it had been  _bad_ , just perhaps not quite well thought through.

Sokka nodded against Zuko's cheek. A fingertip traced idle patterns on Zuko's shoulder. Sokka kind of wanted to ask exactly what they had done. From the er - research that he had done on the subject, it seemed like the concept of what 'sex' was in this sort of situation was more open-ended than with a guy and a girl. But he was far too mortified to ask for further details - he wasn't sure he  _really_ wanted to know anyway. There was already a weird sort of jealousy that he felt in the back of his head concerning Zuko's ex that made him wish he'd been the first boy to get his hands on Zuko. He hated that Zuko's first experience had turned out to be such a negative one. With a slow breath, Sokka tried to push those thoughts away as he pressed a kiss to Zuko's temple, arm sliding tighter around him, feeling greedy and protective.

The other boy didn't seem to mind the move, taking the chance to shift closer as the heat in his blood was finally cooling. "Does it... bother you?" he ventured, trying not to sound at all worried. And he wasn't, really; he just didn't want Sokka thinking it made any difference to how he felt now. He's spent a lot of time getting to a place where he acknowledged that his relationship with Jet was different in almost every way to this one and though both were with other males, the similarities ended there. He carried over no expectations and, he hoped, as little baggage as possible.

"No!" Sokka answered too quickly, then tried on a light shrug. "I just... wanna know what I'm up against." He forced a chuckle, feeling awkward. He knew he was probably being silly for worrying about such a thing. But at the same time, he knew logically that it was a legitimate worry. If Jet's personality was any evidence, he likely had a lot more hands on experience when he was with Zuko than Sokka would have. Probably even with guys. In general, Jet was so in control and confident about everything - Jet was what Sokka  _tried_ so hard to be and always inevitably failed.

But Zuko was shaking his head. "You're not up against anything," he said. "I didn't tell you yes because I wanted a replacement for Jet. I like  _you_. I don't expect you to be what Jet was... I don't want you to be like him." Zuko fell quiet suddenly, aware of the sudden outpouring of words and just a little embarrassed for them. "What about you and your girlfriend?" he asked suddenly.

Sokka was busy hiding his face in Zuko's hair, embarrassed himself by Zuko's seeming ability to read his thoughts. The words made his chest a little tight but they were exactly what he wanted and needed to hear. It took a moment for Zuko's question to register in his pinkened ears and even then, he was silent for a very, very long moment. "Suki and I never met in real life," he finally said, taking the easy answer and then falling quiet again. The swallow that he pushed down sounded loud in his head then, trying to find the words that he needed to say. "Y...Yue and I did," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "We were way too young... I was barely fifteen," he continued, prying the words from his own lips. "But... with... the circumstances... we wanted to. And I don't regret it." He fell silent for a moment before adding softly, "I never told anyone that."

"Yue," Zuko breathed, a whisper after a long silence. "It's a pretty name." He found himself pressing his brow against Sokka's cheek, lips just over his pulse and for a moment he felt guilty for bringing it up. Then, "I'm glad you told me. She must have been really special to you." He wished he could think of something better to say.

The dark skinned boy breathed in deeply and let it out in a long sigh, lifting his other arm to curl around Zuko's shoulders. "Yeah," he answered softly. He wished he could say how grateful he was for the gentle understanding in Zuko's voice. For the sweetness of his words. But all he could bring himself to do was hug tightly to Zuko's shoulders and let gratitude and happiness war with sorrow and fear. It might not have been about his sexuality but he had faced his own demons when working up the courage to ask for Zuko's companionship. "Thank you," he whispered into Zuko's hair. For so many things - from not being threatened in that moment by his fond memories of a past lover to helping him overcome fear enough to experience that again.

Zuko swallowed hard, a little overwhelmed by the weight that had settled on them, and he tightened his own grip on Sokka's waist, breathing in deep the clean scent of him. He shook his head faintly against the unneeded gratitude; he knew what it felt like to lose someone, knew how important it was just to have someone understand. "I won't let her down," Zuko said suddenly, then immediately flushed at how silly the words must sound. He couldn't really explain, though, how he felt like this girl must have regretted having to leave Sokka alone. He couldn't help hoping that she might somehow approve of of him, of Zuko looking out for Sokka, caring about him like maybe she once had.

Though he couldn't say anything, Sokka smiled into Zuko's temple and turned to rest his cheek there, soaking in the comfort that the other boy's touch offered. His tension melted away and he relaxed, marveling that no tears had spilled from his eyes, though he did blink back the shine he knew was there. He laughed suddenly, a tiny little huff of a laugh. "Talk about an emotional day," he said and Zuko could hear the sardonic sort of grin in his voice. He dipped his head a little to kiss the other boy's cheek lightly.

Zuko flushed faintly and bit back the unneeded apology for their mutual misstep at school that day. "Yeah," he agreed instead."Glad you came over, though." He punctuated this with a chaste kiss to Sokka's clothed shoulder.

"Me too," Sokka responded, sinking back against the blankets, smiling softly. For a long moment, they were silent and he just enjoyed the feeling of being together, letting all that emotion run its course. Finally, he spoke up, "Are you done with your homework?"

Quiet laughter met his question. "No," Zuko answered. "Don't really care though." As if to emphasize this, his arm tightened around Sokka's waist. "It can wait a little longer."

Sokka's laughter answered Zuko's and in agreement, he also squeezed tighter at Zuko but he didn't say anything. He just stayed there, adding his own sense of disinterest in school work to their thoughts. Soon Iroh would be home and they could help him make dinner and do some studying after. He could relax, hold off thinking about home for a little while, somehow Zuko's attention allowing his characteristic worry to ease with the other boy's company.


	29. Chapter 29

That weekend, after two days spent in a bizarre combination of tension and euphoria, Sokka and Aang decided that a day at the beach was just what everyone needed to wind down; some time spent with friends and without the pressures of school or anything else. That morning, Sokka and Katara picked up Aang, then swung by Iroh's house where Zuko joined them with a large cooler of food generously provided by his uncle for their day's adventure. Toph met them there, waving sweetly and cheerfully at her parents' car before turning back to her friends with an exaggerated gagging expression.

Within moments, Aang had shouted a racing challenge to Sokka and the two boys went tearing through the sand, beach towels flapping while Toph scoffed and then bolted after them, beating them both to the water even though she trampled over the backs of a few sunbathers on the way. This left Zuko and Katara at the edge of the sand with the cooler and awkward silence.

Katara looked at the older boy from the corner of her eye as though contemplating whether to leave him alone with the hefty item out of spite. Finally she sighed and grabbed one handle. "They're so irresponsible," she complained.

"Well," Zuko shrugged, bending to take the other handle, heaving it up as they began to make their way down the beach to find a marginally less crowded spot to set up. "Aang and Toph at least have the excuse of being only thirteen..." When Katara looked over, he was grinning though, his eyes following the others as they splashed ahead down the shore.

The girl snorted. "And Sokka's excuse is that mentally, he's only thirteen." Without warning, she dropped her end of the cooler, seeming to find this spot appropriate when she turned to toss her towel out on the sand. "Really immature," she added pointedly as she sank down to it.

"I dunno," Zuko answered, setting down his end, and laying out the large blanket Toph had contributed to the venture. The umbrella donated by GranGran joined the set up and soon a cool shade had settled across Katara's shoulders. "I guess maybe he's more mature than most people give him credit for."

"Hm. I guess you'd have to think that to be  _dating_  him," Katara responded, unimpressed though she watched Zuko carefully from the corner of her eye. "How'd you get to know my brother so...  _well_  in such a short period of time, anyway?" she asked loftily.

Zuko glanced briefly toward the girl before turning his gaze back to the waves where Sokka still played with the other two. "I suppose he just trusts me," he said, echoing Katara's tone of voice back to her. "Well enough to tell me almost anything. I guess we understand each other."

Katara busied herself with braiding her hair to pin back from her shoulders, avoiding Zuko's gaze by looking out at the water. "Amazing what teenage hormones can do," she replied with a shrug.

Zuko bristled instantly, but instead of snapping back with an angry retort, he took a breath and forced a calm into his voice. "Oh, I don't think you can really blame teenage hormones for such a nasty attitude," he returned, almost cheerfully. "Then again, I guess I don't know much about 'girl stuff' since I'm just the queer that's dating your brother." Zuko looked at her and smiled. One more, "He's an excellent kisser, by the way."

The braid had fallen from Katara's fingers, her mouth in a surprised 'O' as she stared at Zuko, her face slowly shifting through various, emotive shades of red. As her brow set with anger, Zuko thought that her hair might lift from her shoulders like snakes. "Why- why you-"

"Hey ladies," Toph said cheerfully, letting their voices lead her to the blanket where she flopped down beside Katara. "How goes the cat fighting?"

"Shut up, Toph!" Katara snapped with a sharp enough tone that the younger girl lifted her brows in surprise. Katara looked as though she were about to continue her attack on Zuko even with Toph there, but Sokka and Aang weren't far behind her, joining them with laughing grins, wet from splashing and with sand sticking to their feet and legs.

Sokka caught Zuko by the wrist, tugging him down to the wide blanket. "You pale kids better put on sunblock or I'm gonna be driving home a car full of lobsters," he teased, tugging at the hem of Zuko's shirt. He placed himself behind the other boy to helpfully apply lotion to his back, pointedly ignoring the venomous glare that his sister was shooting him which kept her from noticing the hopeful glances which Aang was tossing her way.

"All right," Toph said, standing again and stepping onto the corner of Katara's towel, scattering wet sand and effectively distracting Katara from her mission to bore holes into Zuko's head with mind power alone. "Who's gonna do me?" She turned around, arms lifted, giving those assembled a good look at her white skin, the palest of those assembled. "Not that I don't think I'd look great with a tan," she put in, raising a brow cockily.

"Come over here," Zuko laughed and made room for her in front of him as he set his own shirt aside and welcomed the younger girl with a handful of lotion offered by Sokka. As she settled cross-legged between his knees and Zuko began to rub the lotion into her shoulders, Aang seemed to finally work up the courage to ask the same of Katara.

"W-would you mind?" he gulped, handing another tube of sunblock to the scowling girl before kneeling down before her, suddenly and awkwardly.

"Huh?" Katara said shortly, shaking herself from her distraction after a moment. "Oh – sure." She sighed, tossing her half-done hair over her shoulder to focus her attention on the younger boy.

"Enjoy your peace while you have it," Toph warned, sitting up straight while Zuko attended to her. "Because when we get back in the water, you're all getting sea wedgies."

"Sea wedgies?" Sokka repeated incredulously. "That doesn't even make sense."

"Oh, it will. Just wait."

"I don't suppose I get to skip out on that since I was so nice and helped you with the sunblock?" Zuko spoke up hopefully.

Toph laughed. "Oh, you're funny! Sokka, this guy is hilarious! Better keep an eye on him or you'll lose your title of 'the joke guy'."

"Are you okay, Katara?" Aang asked softly, offering a glance over his shoulder as the other three bantered. Her tension was only too obvious... especially in the way her fingers were digging into the muscles of his shoulders considerably more forceful than was needed for sunblock.

"Just fine," Katara muttered under her breath, glowering as she watched from the corner of her eye when Sokka finished his task and rested his cheek against the back of Zuko's bare shoulder.

Aang winced a little, but didn't press the issue. He only hoped that she might be able to talk to him about it later. "Okay," he murmured, frowning a little at his own lack of courage which was preventing him from even offering a friendly squeeze to her hand.

"So you really don't sunburn at all?" Zuko asked, brow raised, as he tried to meet Sokka's gaze over his own shoulder. "Not even a little?" His voice was teasing; already anticipating ending the day with a burnt and whining Sokka.

"What, this brown sugar skin?" Sokka said with flirting cockiness. "Never. I soak up the sun like I was born there."

"I guess your brain cells didn't survive the heat during the birthing process, huh?"

"I don't need your sass, Toph!"

"Just think of it as a gift," she shot back, with a smirk, equally cocky.

"Ah, that explains a lot," Zuko nodded sagely, playing devil's advocate by taking Toph's side.

"Hey!" Sokka protested, giving a smart pinch to Zuko's bare side.

"Ow, watch it!" Zuko retaliated by twisting suddenly and laughing as he scooped a handful of sand into Sokka's lap.

"Ah! MY SHORTS!" Sokka shrieked indignantly, grabbing for Zuko and wrenching him safely away from Toph, to wrestle him into the sand with a laugh.

"You guys are making a mess!" Katara snapped angrily, startling Aang in front of her.

"Jeeze, Katara!" Sokka rolled his eyes, a hand on Zuko's chest pressing him into the warm sand. "Were you not expecting sand when we came to the beach?"

"That's not the point!" Katara fumed, her hands, thankfully, leaving Aang's shoulders before they balled into tight fists.

Zuko, already tired of the tension between them, chose to ignore her snappish comments, and instead, enjoy the warmth of the day and the playful contact he'd missed earlier as he'd set up their spot. He grinned up at Sokka as he flopped back, arms under his head.

"Fine, whatever," Sokka said with a shrug as he hauled himself to his feet and caught Zuko's hand on the way up, tugging him along. "Let's go for a swim." He pointedly ignored his sister's glare and kept hold of the other boy's hand for her benefit, leading him toward the water.

Katara scowled after them. "What is he thinking!? Doing that in public where anyone could see!"

Toph shrugged, "Looks perfectly innocent to me."

"It's not funny, Toph!" Katara lashed out, coming near the end of her rope with neither of the causes of her distress within scolding distance. "He gets all uppity with me about not telling anyone and then comes to the beach and is GROPING Zuko's half-naked body in public! Nobody wants to see that!"

Aang shifted uncomfortably, torn between defending his best friends and avoiding any further upsetting Katara. Toph, on the other hand, had no such compulsions.

"Okay Princess," she began, "First of all, it's a  _beach_. Everyone's half-naked. Not really a surprise. Also, and I mean, not that I'm an expert on teenage boys or anything, but isn't rough-housing a preeetty common pass time? Aang?" She turned suddenly, blinking expectantly in the boy's general direction.

Aang grimaced a little. "Y-Yeah... Sokka and I wrestle sometimes. I mean! Not like he and Zuko wrestle -" he added quickly since the LAST thing he needed was for Katara to think that his relationship with her brother was ANYTHING like Sokka's relationship with Zuko.

"That's what I mean!" Katara pounced on his words. "It's different with those two! It's all...  _sexual_!" she hissed as though God were listening in on their conversation.

Toph rolled her eyes. "Oh come on. They've been like this for more than a month, even before they got together. And I'll bet you didn't even notice it until Sokka told you they were dating."

Aang, meanwhile, though relieved that Katara hadn't questioned his friendship with Zuko, still glanced nervously between the two girls, hoping neither of them decided to ask him a question again.

"He  _didn't_ tell me they were dating!" Katara said hotly, a pout coming into her voice that was more characteristic to her brother than herself. "I had to walk in on them making out at school to find out. They're just being so stupid about it!"

"You did?" Toph perked up, ignoring Katara's commentary and latching hold of the gossip. "What were they doing?"

"Um," Aang tried, tentative, "Should we really be-?"

Katara cut him off, her voice a frantic hiss. "They were  _necking_! In Mr. Zei's classroom that day that you two were in the computer lab! Sokka was... he... well, he was  _straddling_  Zuko's hips." Her face heated with embarrassment. "It was obscene!"

"Oooh, in Zei's classroom, hm?" Toph chuckled. "Risky, definitely. Though if Zei hadbeen the one who walked in, probably wouldn't have even noticed. Not with how he walks with a book in front of his face all the time."

Aang, red-faced, was tracing spirals in the sand now. "Seriously, you guys..." he mumbled.

"Well, what do you think, Aang?" Katara asked, the edge of anger in her voice fading a little and giving way to something more akin to desperation. "Don't you think they're acting dangerously?"

"I- I mean..." Aang stuck a finger deep into the sand, flushing at the topic of conversation. "I guess, maybe?"

Toph rolled her eyes. "Please, it's not like rumors need real substance to be started. I mean, people have been saying that Sokka's gay for like... years. Even if someone else found them, it'd be like... old news."

"What!" Katara yelped. "People don't think he's gay! That's just a joke! There's a huge difference between teasing and actual  _rumors_. Everyone knows about Sokka and Yue."

"Yeah, and having a girlfriend doesn't mean you don't like man meat on the side," Toph pointed out. "I mean, hello, look at Chan and Ruon Jian. More girlfriends between them than anyone else in school, but everyone knows they're totally doing each other."

"They are?" Aang gaped, his eyes like saucers.

"Ugh, Toph, that's disgusting!" Katara rubbed at her temples. "What if Yue is why he's doing this though? I mean, maybe he's just afraid that being with a girl is going to get him hurt. Obviously his mind is really clouded somewhere. I mean, really, ZUKO? Come on."

"What's wrong with Zuko?" Aang asked before Toph had a chance to say it. He put a hand to his mouth almost immediately though, hemming awkwardly. "I mean... it's just... he's a good guy..." he added quickly, not quite meeting Katara's eyes.

"If he was afraid of being hurt," Toph cut in, "Then he wouldn't be dating a guy with as many issues as Zuko. Don't get me wrong, I think Scarface is awesome... you know, for a boy, but really, he's kind of a heartbreak waiting to happen."

"That's what I'm trying to say!" Katara said with exasperation. "It's like - he's putting himself in this  _horrible_ situation where there's so much potential for things to go wrong. He's putting his reputation on the line to go out with this guy who's probably just going to end up hurting him." She sighed and flopped onto her back in the shade, frustration wearing her down.

"Maybe he thinks it's worth the risk," Toph shrugged, following suit when she heard Katara lay back. She dug her toes into the sand and sighed.

"He... does seem kind of... um, happy lately?" Aang offered with a shrug, hoping Katara wouldn't be too upset to hear him point it out. "I dunno, I kind of noticed that..."

"Of course he's happy," Katara muttered irritably. "He's over at Zuko's house sucking face five days a week. The only time he's home anymore is when Zuko comes over for dinner."

"Careful, Sugar," Toph grinned. "You're starting to sound just a liiiiittle jeeeealous..."

"Jealous?" Katara repeated incredulously. "Ha! Jealous of the mess he's making out of his life? Hardly. I'm just trying to look out for him, that's my job as his sister."

"Maybe if you told him that you're just looking out for him?" Aang suggested hopefully. "Then maybe you could... um, talk about it or something?"

"Well, I think this is better than him running home every day to get on his computer and play WoW," Toph argued. "At least now he actually wants to spend time with us again." She gestured in a wide circle around them.

"I guess," Katara said stubbornly and she sighed. She wasn't entirely sure she agreed with Toph's assessment though.

Meanwhile, safely past the surf and away from Katara's prying eyes, Sokka grinned at Zuko as they waded through chest-high water that made them pause to ride out waves as they made their way deeper. "Sorry about my sister," Sokka said, though he didn't seem particularly  _worried_ about the subject.

Zuko shrugged, fingers reaching out and finding Sokka's hand once more, under the waves. "I guess she's having a hard time with the idea of you actually  _liking_  me." A pause as they pushed up, riding a surge of salty water before feeling their toes touch sand again. "I kind of... called her on her attitude, though," he continued, just a bit sheepishly now, after the fact. "I hope she doesn't give you too much trouble over it."

Sokka just shrugged, twining their fingers together, using the grip to guide himself closer, legs brushing in the current. He laughed and held tight when another wave threatened to pull them apart, then shook his hair out of his face. "I'm glad you did. She needs to know that she can't bully either of us. I can kind of understand why she's so upset though. It must be hard for her. She must be really jealous that I have such a cute boyfriend."

Zuko flushed and lifted his free hand to slug Sokka in the shoulder, a move drastically diminished by the weight of the water. "Shut up," Zuko mumbled, unable to entirely hide the grin that threatened. "Besides, it's 'roguishly handsome', not 'cute'," he corrected. " _You're_  the cute one."

"What!" Sokka protested with a laugh, catching Zuko's other wrist and waiting for a wave to pass before swimming close, hair dripping between them. "Says who? I think I'm more the 'ruggedly attractive' type."

"How about 'ruggedly cute'?" Zuko compromised, smirking mischievously as he hooked an ankle around Sokka's heel.

Sokka considered this as a light wave rocked them away from the sand. "I guess I can live with that," he smirked as he hooked two fingers in the waistband of Zuko's trunks. "But that makes you roguishly adorable."

"Ooh," Zuko winced. "'Adorable' is even worse than cute!" He laughed and let Sokka draw him closer. "But never let it be said that I'm not flexible." He poked playfully at Sokka's bare stomach.

The younger boy couldn't hide his giggle though he tried, batting at Zuko's prodding fingers. "Lucky for me," he teased, wrestling his way closer again, though it was unclear whether he was aware of the innuendo from his own lips even as he pressed in for a salty kiss to be stolen.

They were only just far enough from shore for such an action to be missed, an innocent meeting of two swimmers, but for the two of them, it felt risky, dangerous and exciting, and Zuko's hands found and tightened on Sokka's waist as he kissed his mouth, sea water interrupted the flavor of sun and skin. Sokka felt his heartbeat quicken as Zuko took the move just a slight step further, heard himself give a tiny gasp between Zuko's lips. The other boy had an advantage with just the slight height difference between them - Sokka slid his arms around the other's waist and up his back to hold his shoulders, toes brushing the sandy bottom as he pulled himself tighter in to the kiss. And then his heart was  _racing_ because this effectively pressed them tight together, making him realize how scant their clothing was and how thin their shorts were. Where he should have stopped, though, realized how silly they were being, he instead dipped his tongue past salty lips, seeking greedily Zuko's taste instead of the ocean's.

The kiss lasted longer than it should have and Zuko was more than a little light-headed when he pulled away, breathless and over-heated despite the chill ocean water. He pressed their brows together, closing his mouth against the splash of salt and reluctantly eased away, his hands lingering on Sokka's hips. "We should get back soon," he reminded, gently, sighing quietly, clearly regretful. "The others might be getting hungry..."

"Yeah," Sokka agreed, equally reluctant and pouting faintly. The truth was, if he'd had his choice he would have tangled himself up further in Zuko's limbs and mouth, maybe wrapped his legs around the other boy's waist... No one would be able to tell what was going on beneath the water... He yelped when a wave caught him off guard, lost in dirty thoughts as he suddenly was and was dragged under. A moment later, he came up, sputtering and shoved his wet hair off of his face with a sigh. "C'mon. If I can't have you, lunch is the second best thing."

Zuko laughed quietly, blushing fiercely as he took Sokka's hand and began the trek, half-walk, half-swim, back to shore. "I'll make it up to you later," he promised.

 


	30. Chapter 30

Though Katara had been kinder as days passed, no longer shooting Zuko constantly angry glares, the gap had not yet been completely closed. She was still a little chilly toward them both - her brother more so than Zuko himself, making sure her sibling was aware of his betrayal. Sokka didn't bother feeling bad about it though, insisting to Zuko that she would get over it in time.

However, as they waited in the food court of the mall for Aang and Toph to arrive, it was more than a little uncomfortable. Since she'd found out, Katara had been boycotting Sokka's car, insisting sarcastically that she didn't want to impose on Sokka's alone time with his  _boyfriend_ and walking to school instead. So since the day that she'd walked in on their intimate moment, there hadn't been much precedent for the three of them being alone together.

Sokka drummed his fingers on the table they shared, offering apologetic glances to Zuko while Katara did her best to ignore them by touching up her make up.

The sound of approaching footsteps drew Zuko's attention, and he turned, expecting Aang and Toph. Instead he looked up to see his sister, trailed by his ex-girlfriend and some distance behind the two of them, distracted by a sale sign outside the shoe store, Ty Lee. Zuko felt his heart sink into his stomach.

"Look what I found, Mai," Azula's eyes didn't leave Zuko's face as she smiled, a dangerous slice of teeth through perfectly applied lipstick. "My pathetic excuse for a brother."

The pale-faced girl's expression flickered only briefly, a faint frown turned in Azula's direction. She said nothing, but was careful not to meet Zuko's gaze.

"Aren't you happy to see me, Zuzu?" Azula said with an exaggerated pout, folding her arms over her chest. "The house is so  _peaceful_  without you around. And father is in such a better mood."

Sokka scowled up at the girl standing over their table. " _You're_  the sister?" he spoke up, arching an eyebrow at her. Azula's gaze flickered to him.

"Yes?" she said expectantly.

"I just thought you'd be prettier," Sokka said with an unimpressed shrug.

"Funny," Azula sniffed, then turned her attention back to Zuko. "Oh, Zuzu... Is this is the common trash you've thrown your life away on? I guess I shouldn't be surprised after your... tryst with that filthy tree monkey. What was his name again, Mai?"

The quiet, dark-haired girl turned her eyes on Zuko then, almost expressionless, but not quite. "Jet."

"Oh, that's  _right_ ," Azula pressed a manicured nail to her lips. "It's a shame someone ratted you out before I had the chance. Still." She shrugged. "Ce la vie."

Sokka glanced over nervously at his own sister who until that point had been doing her best to ignore the conversation happening at the table. But upon this piece of information, she was staring over her compact mirror at the back of Zuko's head in shock. His gaze then darted to Zuko, who was pale and avoiding the eyes of both girls.

"Do you  _need_  something?" Sokka spoke up again, bristling with irritation. "Because you haven't said anything useful since you got here. But if all you're here to do is show off what a bitch you are, mission accomplished, see ya."

Azula seemed, for a very brief moment, to be considering very carefully whether to continue pretending as though she didn't  _speak_  the language of lower-class coupon-cutters or to take off Sokka's head with the edge of her thumbnail.

Her final decision, however was interrupted by Ty Lee's sudden and boisterous arrival. "Oh! There you guys are!" She had both arms slung around Mai's shoulders before she noticed the the others. "Oh my god! Sokka! Hi!"

Despite every difference between them, the faint wince of irritation that appear on the Hakan siblings' faces was quite near identical.

Sokka stared up at the cheerful girl who was hanging off of the gothy-looking girl's shoulders. When did this afternoon get so weird? But THEN, five minutes too late, he realized what Zuko's sister had called the gothy-looking girl. This was Zuko's ex-girlfriend? She was so severe looking... Ty Lee batting her lashes at him drew his gaze away from Mai's face. "Uh. Hi, Ty Lee."

"You know this guy?" Mai asked, lifting a deadpan brow.

Ty Lee grinned and began casually playing with with Mai's hair. "Oh, yeah! He's the guy I met at the movies! You remember? The one who bought me candy? I told you about him."

"Well don't get your hopes up, Ty Lee," Azula smirked, hands on her hips as she finally regarded the dark-skinned boy. "He's my brother's plaything now. Disgusting, isn't it, Mai?"

"EXCUSE ME?" Everyone present startled when the loud scratching of a chair interrupted the conversation and the girl who'd been sitting across from Sokka and Zuko stood suddenly. "My brother is NOT Zuko's PLAYTHING," Katara snapped at Azula, slamming her compact down on the table. "And just because you're so sick and cold-hearted that you support your screwed up, monstrous father's ideals and can't look past your own nose enough to see that Zuko's the only one out of your family that has a SOUL, doesn't give you any right to judge them! What's DISGUSTING is the inch of cake and whore-red that you're trying to use to make pretty your nasty, sneering face and hide the fact that you're so stone-hearted that you could never fathom having a supportive, healthy relationship like your brother - not to mention that you don't have half the guts that it took for him to stand up for how he feels and do what's right for him! Even so, your nasty attitude doesn't do much to hide the fact that secretly you're jealous that he has REAL friends instead of stupid lackeys that trail you because you're rich and popular and that his boyfriend is cuter than any guy you could ever hope to reel in with your GROSS personality!"

The entire food court had gone silent and was staring.

Zuko had turned around, mouth hanging open and eyes wide. Katara was literally and figuratively standing up for him, her brother, their relationship and everything he had been sure she hated him for. He began to find it a bit hard to breathe, however, around the time she accused Azula of being jealous and turned back toward his own sister, praying that a physical intervention wouldn't be necessary.

"Hey!" Ty Lee protested, "I'm not stupid!" Mai rolled her eyes and held a hand to her mouth. The insult she could take; she seemed more interested in observing Azula's reaction than becoming defensive herself.

"Listen here, you little slut," Azula seethed, teeth clenched and eyes burning. "I don't know who you are and I frankly don't give a shit. But you mess with me and I'll make sure I remember what your pretty face  _used_ to look like when they're using dental records to ID your corpse."

Zuko was on his feet before Azula even finished speaking, pushing between the two girls, pressing the advantage of an inch of height to glare down at his sister. "You touch her or Sokka or any of my friends and I won't be the only kid our father looses. This time it's your head on the block." He smiled bitterly as he leaned close, hot breath washing threateningly across Azula's cheek as he whispered his pointed threat. "Dad knows all my secrets now, but he still doesn't know all of yours."

For a moment, Azula appeared startled by his threat - it wasn't like Zuko to actually stand up for himself. But then she sneered darkly at him. " _My_  secrets, Zuzu?" she repeated, incredulous, amused. "I'm not sure I have anything that can compare to the fact that you're a full blown faggot."

Mai took a single step forward, almost looked as though she might actually protest Azula's language, but Ty Lee shook her head, held her back, eyes nervous as she watched the two siblings.

"Oh, you're sure," Zuko breathed, quirked a dark smile, "You're just not sure if I'm bluffing or if I really do have something. Well you're not the only one with a network,  _Zula_. My 'tryst' with the 'dirty tree monkey' earned me some interesting connections and some even more interesting information."

This finally gave Azula pause, her eyes narrowing as she watched her brother's face carefully for a long moment. Finally, she gave a disgusted snort and took a step back, shaking her hair out of her face. "Whatever. Come on, girls. I'm not interested in being seen with Zuko's little pride parade." With nothing more, she turned on her heel and marched away from the food court.

Mai hesitated, for a moment just meeting Zuko's eyes, and with this contact all the anger went out of Zuko and the look he returned her was genuinely apologetic, and more than a little bit sad. She said nothing, but finally turned, pulling Ty Lee along with her as she followed Azula out of the food court.

Zuko heaved a deep sigh when they were out of sight, then took a breath and returned to their table, not quite meeting the eyes of either sibling. "I'm... really sorry about that," he finally said, raking a hand through his hair.

Before anything else could be said though, Sokka was suddenly grabbing him and pressing a shockingly fierce kiss to his mouth, earning a gasp and a, "Jeeze, Sokka!" from his sister across the table. When he pulled back, he met Zuko's dazed and confused expression with a grin. "For standing up to your sister," he answered before Zuko could ask.

Zuko flushed all the way to his ears, rubbed at the back of his head and stepped to the side to find his chair again. He sank down into it as Sokka joined him to his right, reaching under to table to find and take hold of his hand. "Well, you know..." he waved vaguely. "She threatened  _your_  sister." He nodded across the table, not quite ready to meet Katara's eyes. "And she insulted all of us, so... I guess I was just tired of it."

Sokka's grin widened, giving Zuko's hand a squeeze under the table. "Even though Katara held her own pretty well!" he said enthusiastically, wagging his eyebrows at her. "I thought she was gonna claw your eyes out!" he squealed.

Katara just rolled said eyes, putting her things away. "She's just a poser," she said with a shrug. "She had no right talking to either of you that way."

Zuko was a bit more subdued than Sokka when he sought and found Katara's gaze, holding it silently for a moment before dipping his head politely, gratefully. "Thank you," he murmured. "It meant... a lot to hear you say those things."

Katara flushed a little, quickly looking away and maintaining her frown. "Whatever, you guys just like it when I get mad," she mumbled.

"That's true," Sokka said thoughtfully. "But this time was  _extra_  special." He ducked when she threw a napkin at him.

"Hey guys!" Aang's voice rang out across the food court and when the three looked up, he was dragging Toph along behind him, hurrying toward their table. "How come you're throwing napkins? Did Sokka try to do his whale impression again?"

"Hey!" Sokka protested, pouting. "My whale impression is great! And definitely not reason for napkin throwing!"

"Tell that to my eardrums," Toph remarked as she sat down beside him.

"Whatever, don't get comfortable! All that excitement made me hungry, let's eat!"

"Excitement?" Aang perked with interest. "What did we miss!?"

"I have an amazing story," Sokka said smoothly, standing to put an arm around his younger friend, leading him toward food. "About how my sister and my boyfriend slayed an evil dragon with bad make-up..."

Said sister and boyfriend managed to pull off eye rolls completely in sync and Aang simply looked confused. "Dragons wear make up?"

"Hey!" Toph waved, snapping her fingers. "Some of us are hungry! He can tell his amaaazing story after you guys bring back food." She grinned and propped her feet up on another nearby chair. "I'll watch the table."

The meal was quite an animated affair, Sokka retelling the attack of the killer high school girls in rather exaggerated detail. Toph was a little skeptical, asking where Zuko and Katara got armor but Sokka would hear none of it. During the movie that followed their dinner, Zuko was fawned over, Sokka having no issue with putting the arm up between them so that he could sneak nibbles and kisses in the dark, thoroughly embarrassing Zuko when Toph punched Sokka in the arm and told him to save it for later - if she couldn't SEE the movie, she was going to at least hear it without having to endure the sounds of them making out next to her.

 


	31. Chapter 31

On the way home, Zuko's phone buzzed in his pocket, an unusual occurrence when Sokka was with him since the majority of his text messages came from either him or Aang.

_well that was a mildly interesting evening_

It was from Mai.

"It's Mai," Zuko said aloud. He swallowed hard, hit reply and typed back:

_i'm sorry about earlier... i hope she didn't take it out on you_

It was strange to realize that these were the first words he'd exchanged with Mai for almost two years.

Sokka looked at him askance from the driver's seat, hesitant. "What does she want?"

Zuko's phone buzzed again before he could respond.  _eh. you might want to keep an eye on that guy's sister._

"She says we should keep an eye on Katara," Zuko glanced across the car at Sokka, worry clearly evident in his expression. He turned back to his phone, tapping a little more quickly at the keys.

_what happened after you left?_

_just a lot of anger and histrionics. you know how azula is when she's humiliated._

Sokka's face mirrored Zuko's anxiety as he parked in front of Iroh's house. "Is your sister like, dangerous...?"

Zuko hesitated. "She... definitely takes after our father. I don't know if she'll try anything... but maybe we shouldn't let Katara walk to school for a while..."

To Mai, he texted back:  _are you okay?_

Sokka couldn't help but chuckle - it would at least be an easy way to put an end to that particular aspect of his sister's drama over their relationship.

 _of course i am_ , came Mai's response. Then a moment later,  _you?_

Zuko shot a strange look at Sokka. "She  _has_ hurt people before," he added, lest the other boy take his sister's threat too lightly.

 _i'm fine,_  he answered back.  _has she set fire to my room yet?_

Sokka lifted his hand sheepishly. "No - I was just thinking it's kind of ironic that Katara was like, boycotting getting rides because of us... and now she's going to have to because she stood up for us," he explained.

_not yet. who knows after tonight though._

_well if you want that shirt back,_  Zuko's thumb hovered over the key pad, then erased the half-written message. He didn't want to sound like a jerk.

"Oh," Zuko said aloud, thumb grazing the side of his phone. "Yeah, I guess that's true. Well, it'll be safer anyway."

 _she wouldn't dare burn anything in dad's house anyway,_  he settled on sending.

 _true. but she can always take your stuff out of the house._  Even in text, Mai's morbid concept of humor came through.

"What's she saying now?" Sokka asked. He glanced at Zuko, feeling awkward.

"I'm just... making sure she's okay," Zuko said, distractedly. "Azula has a tendency to take her moods out on whoever's around her and Mai and Ty Lee practically never leave her side."

_promise me you'll leave if she makes a bonfire and starts dancing around it burning me in effigy?_

"Oh." Sokka fiddled idly with the radio. "I guess I should get going, I have work in the morning..." he put in, looking at Zuko from the corner of his eye and waiting for the argument that would bring him inside for just a little while.

_i don't know that sounds kind of fun to watch_

Zuko flinched a little, Mai's text hitting just a little to close to home and without the context of even subtle vocal or facial expressions, it was impossible to tell if she was just poking fun or taking a thinly veiled stab. "Gimme one sec," he said, reaching across the seat to squeeze at Sokka's knee.

 _haha well watch out she doesn't ask you to fetch her some babys blood or something._ Then,  _hey, I gotta go. talk to you later maybe?_

 _Ok,_  was all she replied with.

Zuko frowned faintly, trying to shake off the strange mood that had settled over him since Azula's departure that day, and tucked his phone away. He turned in his seat then, unbuckling himself and reaching to rub lightly at Sokka's shoulder. "Sorry about that," he murmured. "I think stuff'll be okay. I'd like to think Azula's not actually stupid enough to try anything with all of us on Katara's side, you know?"

With Zuko's full attention on him, Sokka smiled again. "My sister's tougher than she looks, too," he said with a snicker. "Even if her wicked strength is more effective against boys. I don't think I've ever seen my sister yell at a girl like that before."

Zuko laughed quietly. "And I thought girls were all about fighting each other," he commented wryly. "Well, it definitely surprised the hell out of me."

"You really weren't kidding about your sister, though," Sokka grimaced. "And I thought nobody could be as nasty as what you described."

"I wish I'd been kidding," Zuko nodded, sighing. "But no, that's Azula. And this was her more or less  _calm."_

"Ugh," Sokka said sympathetically, then laughed quietly. "Also - Mai - totally not what I was expecting."

Zuko blinked at this, curious. "Oh? What were you expecting?"

"I dunno - just not that." Sokka gave a shrug and a faint snicker. "She's really... kind of gothy. I guess after knowing about Jet, I was expecting a bitchy, female Indiana Jones or something."

Zuko chuckled at this, shook his head. "Well, were your girlfriends very much like each other?" He continued on before Sokka could answer. "Mai and I were childhood friends; well, more like Azula and those two have known each other since kindergarten and I kind of grew up around them too."

Sokka grinned at him sheepishly. "Is she as scary as she looks?" he asked.

Zuko considered this seriously for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, pretty much. Her hobbies are throwing knives and Vietnam war history."

Sokka's grin turned to a grimace. "I hope she never tries to steal you back. I'd be scared," he confided.

"Oh, I dunno. You could probably take her," Zuko teased. "Hey, wanna come in for a cup of tea?"

"Okay," Sokka said readily. He thought Zuko would never ask.

They left Sokka's car parked out front, and Zuko let him into the house, staying quiet in case Uncle had gone to bed already. "I'll see if there's any warm water still," he murmured, touching Sokka's arm as he slipped into the kitchen.

Sokka was smiling as he waited on the couch until Zuko joined him with his uncle's tea pot. They didn't bother to turn on the lights, letting the light from the street lamps pour in the window behind them. Sokka murmured his thanks as Zuko poured him a cup and then scooted close when the other boy sat down with him. With the tea cup in one hand, he put the other elbow on the back of the couch and touched Zuko's hair lightly. "Hey," he said, offering a grin in the pale, yellow light.

"Hey," Zuko echoed, lifting his own tea cup. "Sorry it's not as good as my uncle's." He leaned into Sokka's side, into the light touches of that hand in his hair.

With a light blow over the surface of the hot drink, Sokka sampled the tea and shook his head. "It's great," he said, tipping his head until their temples touched. "I want you to know - I wasn't just teasing or anything tonight. I really am super proud of you."

Zuko flushed faintly, but made no move to pull away. "It sounds silly though," he protested. "All I did was defend us and your sister..."

"Yeah and that's really hard sometimes," Sokka said, not about to let him get away with downplaying what he'd done that evening. "The most difficult people to stand up to can be your family. Especially in your case."

"Mm," Zuko answered, not particularly good at taking a compliment, but pleased by Sokka's approval nonetheless. "Thanks."

A smile was offered in acknowledgment and Sokka focused for a moment on his tea, though he was watching Zuko's face, a little embarrassed when he realized that he was deeply searching out the other boy's eyes. He forced himself to look away, down at his tea, but his fingers still played idly with the dark silk of his hair. "Hey, Zuko..." he said quietly. "Would it be okay if I stayed over?"

Zuko blinked, surprised, but not averse at all to the idea. "Y-yeah, of course," he answered. "But didn't you have to work?"

"Yeah..." Sokka said hesitantly. "I mean, I'd have to get up pretty early. But I can try not to wake you. If it doesn't bother you, I mean."

"You'd better wake me," Zuko corrected, reaching out to tug at Sokka's ear. "I'll kiss you before you go."

Sokka flushed across the bridge of his nose in a way that Zuko hadn't seen in the weeks since their confession and it was almost missed in the dim light. "Yeah, okay," he mumbled, embarrassed.

He helped Zuko clean up once they'd finished their tea. It was pretty late and the light under Iroh's door was already off. It was only a little awkward getting ready for bed - when Sokka had slept over before, it hadn't so much been a planned thing as it had just  _happened_. But before too long, he was slipping under the covers of Zuko's bed with him, wearing his shirt and boxers from the day.

"Hey," Zuko whispered, an arm snaking to circle Sokka's torso as he pulled up the blanket. "Thanks for standing up for me today. I mean, your sister was louder, but... it mattered to hear it from you too."

The dark skinned boy laughed quietly, settling in under the sheets and into Zuko's warmth. He snuggled close - it was only a twin bed after all - and rested his head on the pillow they were sharing, facing the other. He could just make out the contours of his face in the dark room. "Hey, I wasn't about to let her diss you like that," Sokka said easily. Though his snarking hadn't been impressive as Zuko and Katara's heroics, it felt good that Zuko bothered to acknowledge it. "I... I don't want to let anything make you unhappy," he murmured.

"Th-thanks," Zuko mumbled, embarrassed and pleased all at once. The truth was, Sokka had already helped move him toward that goal far more than maybe even he realized. He pushed closer, tightening his arm around Sokka's middle and pressing his cheek against Sokka's neck.

Sokka sighed happily and tested putting an arm around Zuko's shoulders, looking for a comfortable position. He nuzzled into Zuko's hair and gave his frame a squeeze, relaxing completely and secretly applauding himself for staying. With that had happened - the high-running emotion, with the reappearance of Zuko's ex, how happy he was - he just couldn't bring himself to let the evening end. Not unless it was like this. "Goodnight, Zuko," he murmured into warm skin.

"Goodnight, Sokka."

 


	32. Chapter 32

Though Mai had more or less given Zuko permission to talk to her again, it wasn't such a simple thing. Nor was it in any way easy to figure out just what to say when he  _did_  talk to her. An email felt like the safest plan. Just a quick note to say hi, to let her know that despite her connection to his crazy sister and despite everything that had gone down in the past, he  _did_ still care about her. But then again, it seemed so  _heavy_  for an email.

His fingers rested on the keys, where they had for the last five minutes as Zuko stared at his computer screen and tried to figure out what to type.

_Hey Mai, It was nice to see you again. Just wanted to drop you a note to check in and see if there'd been any bonfires last night. Haha. How are you?_

Zuko groaned and hit delete.

Ten minutes and three deleted messages later, Zuko's computer chimed quietly, signaling that someone had logged on to his instant messenger. 'SimplyEcstactic' appeared on the list, a name that Zuko hadn't seen in ages. Mai had no love of instant messaging and had only created the account for talking to Zuko while they were dating. But even after five minutes, she showed no indication of initiating contact.

Zuko rubbed at his face in frustration, willing his pulse to settle as he stared at her screen name. She hadn't said anything yet - it must mean she doesn't actually want to talk to him, right? But then, why else would she sign on? Did she have a new boyfriend that she used that name to talk to? Wouldn't it be presumptuous of Zuko to assume that she signed on because she wanted to talk to  _him_?

At some point while his brain twisted itself into knots trying to decide what to do, Zuko's fingers typed  _hi_ and hit send.

 _hey_ , came the response.  _i guess azula didn't burn down your uncle's house yet._

 _Haha, no. Safe and sound._  Then, a moment later, Zuko frowned.  _She didn't say she was gonna do something like that, did she? I mean, I'm not worried about me, but my uncle shouldn't have to deal with stuff like that._  He was rambling, but his finger hit send before he could consider keeping his answer brief.

 _no, she didn't say that_ , Mai replied.  _I don't think your dad would approve._

 _Yeah well. He's got appearances to keep._  It was only a little frustrating that he couldn't properly express the bitterness in those words, but then he thought Mai might understand. Her own family wasn't much different. Concerned with class and social standing, they were clearly disappointed that their daughter hadn't become quite the sweet, social débutante they'd tried so hard to raise.

 _Yeah. And there's much cleaner ways to get rid of people than arson anyway_. Mai's dry, morbid sense of humor hadn't much changed even through type.

 _Speaking of, how goes the knife collecting?_  Zuko grasped onto the change of subject gratefully.

 _Fine. I'm looking forward to when I move out and I can put them on display instead of hiding them under my bed though. My dad's such a freak about it_. A pause.  _Are you okay?_

Zuko blinked at his computer screen, honestly surprised at the question. It wasn't very characteristic for the girl to out right ask him something like that, even less so for her to actually expect an answer.  _I'm alright,_  he answered, after what was probably as suspiciously long pause.  _Given the circumstances_ , he added, in case she thought he was lying to her.

An equally long pause followed.  _Is that guy actually your boyfriend?_  she asked, just as blunt.

Even sitting there alone at the computer, Zuko felt his face heat up and he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. There was a part of him that had sort of hoped to avoid this conversation with Mai, but the least he owed her was honesty.

_Yeah._

_He's very... tan_ , was all Mai had to say.

 _yeah, the rest of his family is too_. was Zuko's answer. He could think of nothing else to say and nothing more awkward than talking about his boyfriend with his ex-girlfriend.

Another long pause.  _It's really stupid that you got kicked out for that._

Once more Zuko blinked in shock, not at all expecting those words from Mai.  _...Thanks,_  he typed back, grateful that technology could hide the stutter he likely would have had if he'd spoken aloud.  _That means a lot from you._

 _I would have told you sooner_ , she responded.

Zuko groaned faintly. He knew Mai well enough to read between the lines of the brief words she spared him.

 _I'm sorry_ , he sent back, and he meant it.

 _Hm_. Apparently time hadn't quite gotten rid of the sting. But then,  _It's okay. Your sister was there for me when I 'needed her the most'. Luckily she's great in bed._

What exactly, did one say to that? Zuko stared dumbly at the computer screen for a little too long, trying desperately to banish the images -and the rankling emotions- those words conjured. He didn't know if Mai was joking or not, but it wouldn't have honestly surprised him. He didn't think Azula was really  _gay_ but he knew she liked power and control, and sex was one way to exert those things.  _Oh,_  he finally replied.  _Well... that's good._

_You're not crying, are you?_

_No!_  Zuko typed quickly. Then,  _You can do whatever you want._

_You may be dating guys but you haven't changed at all, have you?_

Zuko frowned, sighed.  _...You just know me too well_ , he admitted.

 _I'm not sleeping with your sister_ , she assured him.  _Do you really think that little of me?_

Zuko was glad no one was around to see his sigh of relief or the color return to his face.  _It's not that,_  he assured her in reply.  _I just know what Azula is capable of. If she wanted it, she would find a way to hurt you so you couldn't fight back._

 _I can take care of myself, thanks._  The speakers fell silent then, indicating an impasse in the conversation.

Zuko groaned, hands dropping away from the keyboard to then run roughly through his hair. He slouched forward, elbows on the desk and sighed. He wasn't any good at this. He tried to show concern and only ended up being unintentionally insulting. It wasn't even his place anymore, so why did he keep trying? Maybe because he was finally coming to understand the value of friends. That didn't mean he was any good at keeping them.  _I know you can,_  he typed.  _I'm sorry._  He didn't expect an answer.

It took a long moment but a reply did come.  _I know you are._

And it was at that moment that Zuko's phone decided to ring, the sound indicating that it was Sokka calling.

It was with a strange mix of elation and worry that Zuko answered the phone. Talking to Sokka usually managed to cheer him up, but he wasn't exactly on a good roll with people in general today and he didn't relish the possibility of bringing Sokka's mood down with him.

"Hey," he said into the phone, trying to sound somewhat cheerful.

"Hey!" Sokka replied with a more genuine enthusiasm. "I just got off work. How are you?"

Though every indication pointed to the conversation with Mai being over, somehow the computer chimed again with another message, the mood of Mai's text lifting again.  _So you made Ty Lee pretty jealous._

"Well, Azula hasn't burned anything down yet, so, I'm still in one piece," Zuko laughed a little, quietly. "Katara's okay, right?"

 _I did?_  he typed.

"She's fine," Sokka said easily. "She's actually in a pretty decent mood. I think finally having a good scream at somebody did her good. Are you sure you're doing okay? I really didn't want to leave this morning..." A sigh gusted through the ear piece.

_She seems to think you stole that guy out from under her._

"I'm okay, really," Zuko assured him. "As long as Azula stays away from you guys, it'll be fine. I just... don't quite trust that she's ready to let the whole thing drop, you know?"

_What? Whatever. Ty Lee likes anyone that's cute and will buy her stuff. Anyway, she met him_ _**once** _ _._

"I know," Sokka said with a fond sort of understanding. "But luckily, my family's tough! It'll work out." A brief pause before he continued on to a new subject. "I wish I could come over today... I'm just so behind on my chores. GranGran's gonna come after me with a broom if I don't catch up today. What are you up to?"

As he spoke, a new message from Mai came up.  _Why didn't you tell me you were like that?_

"Yeah. I should probably help Uncle with some stuff around the house too. Um... I was just talking to Mai," he answered, biting his lip as his stomach did a worried flop. There wasn't any reason to feel guilty about it, but he didn't know how Sokka would feel about him communicating with the girl he'd left behind when he was expelled from Hakan.

 _I'm not..._ _ **like**_ _that,_  he corrected, tried to think of a way to explain.  _It's not like I don't still like girls, I just... I guess_ _it's just that I like_ _ **him**_ _? I guess... I would have told you about it but I didn't think you'd want to even see me again._

"Oh. So, um - I didn't realize you guys were still friends. That's good," he tried though the voice that Zuko heard was not as confident as he was sure Sokka had aimed for.

_What about that other guy then?_

_That was different._

Zuko laughed faintly into the phone. "Yeah, well... I didn't think she'd ever want to see me again, so I'm kind of surprised she's, you know, talking to me at all. I guess it means she doesn't totally hate me..."

_I was confused then. Jet was the only person at that school who would even talk to me._

"What... like, what happened when you guys broke up?" Sokka asked with curiosity.

 _What about when we were dating?_  Mai wanted to know.  _Did you know you liked guys then?_

Zuko rubbed faintly at his brow, the strain of carrying on two such equally awkward conversations.

"I kind of... didn't break up with her in person?" he admitted, cringing a little. He'd been much younger than and much much stupider.

 _No,_  he typed back.  _The thought didn't even occur to me then._  He added quickly,  _Besides, i told you. It's not like I'm gay. I'm not dating Sokka_ _ **because**_ _he's a guy. That's... circumstantial._

The was a long pause on Sokka's end as Zuko typed. "So what, like a letter or something?"

_I see._

All of a sudden it occurred to Zuko that maybe he should have been saying he was gay. Would that make it easier on her? To think that it was just how he was and he couldn't change it and so it wasn't any bad reflection on her that they'd broken up? He wasn't sure, but he didn't think that was the sort of thing that Mai would want to hear.

"... ah ha... yeah, more like, um. Text message." He flinched.

"...Oh." But then Sokka laughed again and it was a lighter sound than before. "No wonder you haven't talked!"

_I have to go. Taking my little brother to the park._

_Okay. Um, have fun! Talk to you later,_  he prayed he wasn't being too presumptuous.

When the messenger window was closed, Zuko breathed a sort of sigh of relief, standing up from his computer to flop onto his bed. "Yeah, yeah," he agreed, stretching and half-burying his face into a pillow. It smelled like Sokka. "I was a jerk. Believe me, I know."

"You've changed a lot since then, though," Sokka said, seeming to notice the change in his attention as Zuko's focus shifted. "Besides, if you broke up with her with a text message, I know I don't have to worry about her trying to steal you back."

Zuko chuckled, just a bit ruefully. "Yeah, that's for sure. I'm not even positive that her talking to me again actually means she wants to be friends... Mai can be a little hard to read."

"Well, give her a little time," Sokka said gently. "Maybe she will. But... well...do you really want her to be? Your friend? I mean, what is she like that she still hangs out with your crazy sister?"

Zuko shrugged briefly before he realized the gesture was useless over the phone. "I... I dunno. I mean, Azula likes loyalty, so she treats her friends way better than she ever was to me... I think... I think that Mai knows enough that she'd get out if it was a bad situation for her. I dunno. I guess I'd like for us to be friends again, but I don't know if Azula will give her a hard time for it, you know?"

"Yeah," Sokka agreed. "Well... as long as it doesn't make your sister cause problems for you and Uncle. Otherwise, she's got another thing coming!" The threatening growl from Sokka's teeth rattled in the phone and Zuko could hear him punching a palm with a fist.

Zuko laughed a little, a feeling of genuine warmth coming over him with Sokka's concern. "Thanks," he grinned into the phone. "Sorry to even bug you with this..."

"Stupid," Sokka accused affectionately. "You're not bugging me. I called to you know, talk to you. So of course I want to hear about it. I wanna hear about everything."

"Thanks," Zuko said again, sighing gratefully as he tried to get comfortable, willing the tension in his back and shoulders to relax. Then, after a moment. "My pillow still smells like you," he murmured, embarrassed to say it, but thinking that Sokka might like to know that he noticed.

"Mmm..." Sokka hummed happily in his ear. "It was really nice sleeping with you last night. I seriously don't know how I managed to get myself up this morning. I was so comfy. Although if I hadn't been so tired last night, it would have been hard to resist not sleeping..." Sokka's flirting voice was only a little bit dulled by a slight underlying shyness.

Zuko flushed at his words, simultaneously scowling at his body's reaction. It wasn't as though he were some innocent virgin girl to blush at any mention of sex. "Y-yeah," he agreed, allowing himself to admit, if silently, that similar thoughts had been occupying more and more of his consciousness lately. "Me too," he added, a conspiratorial whisper.

"Nngh-now I  _really_  wish I could come over..." A broken sigh, then, "Where are you right now?" Sokka asked quietly.

"Huh? Um. On my bed?" Zuko replied, rolling onto his back to stretch his limbs, looking up at the ceiling and then across the room at the swords displayed on his wall. He smiled.

"Me too," Sokka told him. "I just got home. I smell like pancakes."

Zuko laughed aloud at this. "IHOP for lunch?" he guessed.

"No!" Sokka snickered. "Some kid's birthday - this huuuge family came in late in the morning for breakfast and they ordered like a million pancakes. The whole place smelled like it."

"Hmm," Zuko considered this. "Well, I've never really been partial to pancakes..."

"Fuuu," Sokka pouted. "I bet you'd like it, jerk. Although the maple syrup kept making me think about you all morning..."

"What?" Zuko laughed again. "How does your train of thought explain  _that_?"

"Because!" Sokka shot back in a defensive pout. "Because..." This time it was a mumble. "Because I keep thinking about... about...  _licking_  you," he murmured in Zuko's ear.

"O-oh," Zuko mumbled back, face heating instantly, a hand lifting to rub idly at the back of his neck. "That sounds... well. Um. You were thinking about that at  _work_?" he finished lamely, vaguely scandalized, but mostly, secretly pleased. And a little turned-on.

"No!" Sokka said quickly, defensively, the humiliation in his voice apparent. "I mean... I mean, yes, but not like... THINKING thinking about it. I just mean... it's... it's in the back of my mind a lot," he muttered. "And there's just little things that... remind me of it, okay? Ugh..." There was a loud rustle of fabric, likely Sokka putting a pillow over his face.

Zuko felt just a little bit bad then. "I was just teasing," he coaxed, taking a mental note to work on that. "Actually..." He shifted, pressing his cheek into his own pillow again. "I like knowing that. That you think about... you know. Me."

"I think about you all the time," Sokka mumbled back, not quite over his embarrassment "Especially... you know... when I'm alone," he added, barely voicing the words which were almost lost under the static.

"Yeah?" Zuko breathed, phone clutched a bit too tightly in his hand and licking at dry lips. "What do you... you know. Think about?"

"Mm..." Sokka mumbled back, movement, shifting making the phone hiss faintly again. "I... I think about the way you kiss when we start getting carried away. I think about what you look like in swim trunks and when you get sweaty and pink from working outside..."

"'Pink'?" Zuko protested lightly, but he was grinning into the phone, and as Sokka spoke, he remembered similar things: Working on his Uncle's deck side by side, swimming at the beach, every time they  _almost_  crossed the line and every time they pulled back again. "What else?" he asked, braver now that Sokka was opening up like this and was the one doing most of the talking.

"Well..." Sokka said, just a little reluctantly. "I think... I think about the things that I want to do. Ugh - Zuko, this is embarrassing," he mumbled but it didn't keep him from continuing. "I think about... tasting you... I've never - you know - not with a guy. I go crazy though because I don't know what it's like... but... I think about you pulling my hair and pushing me down there..." He trailed off, too embarrassed to continue.

It was more than Zuko had expected Sokka to share and the image he painted was more than tempting; it taunted him with the phone lines separating them. "That- that would be... really good," he finished lamely, voice a little husky as he swallowed around the surge of excitement that Sokka's words inspired. "I bet... I bet you'd be good at it."

Sokka made a sort of moaning noise, embarrassment and frustration. "I-I hope so," he responded sheepishly. "I really want to... I... I bet you taste a lot better than I do."

Zuko flushed hard, but his curiosity got the better of him and he heard himself asking. "Have you... you know... tasted yourself? Before?"

"Ah- yeah," Sokka replied sheepishly, realizing a moment too late the information he'd provided. "I... I wanted to know what it's like... so I'm not... surprised. I mean I don't taste  _bad_ ," he hurried to amend, wanting this to be the last thing Zuko would think of. "I just think... I think I'll like it a lot better when it's you."

But Zuko hardly heard him, his thoughts swimming with images of Sokka, of what he did on nights he wasn't around, when he was alone. He'd thought about what they might do together, but it hadn't somehow occurred to him before what Sokka might do when they  _weren't_

.

"I wish I could watch you right now," he confessed. "Watch you do that."

"Do what?" Sokka asked, a little surprised. "You mean..." He paused and Zuko heard him release a shaky breath. "I-I'd let you," he murmured. "If you wanted to watch."

"Y-yeah?" Zuko asked, felt his stomach jump and flutter at the idea. "I do. I do want to." He closed his eyes then to breathe in Sokka's scent still lingering in his pillow. It was embarrassing, but more than that it was exciting. Arousing.

"Zuko..." Sokka's voice was a faint whine, then a whisper. "You're getting me all... worked up... I was supposed to do chores," he complained half-heartedly and Zuko heard him shift and grunt almost inaudibly.

"Sorry..." Zuko breathed back, but he didn't really sound sorry. Mostly he sounded as distracted as Sokka, his own determination to help Iroh around the house that evening already forgotten. "Maybe I can... help," he offered.

"Mmm...?" Sokka questioned, then sighed. "How are you gonna help? The only way I can think of is if you're gonna come over here and put your hand down my pants..." His voice was very quiet - a little teasing, a little whining and a little seductive.

Zuko's response was a quiet huff which might have been laughter but just as easily could have been the prelude to a groan. "I could-" He paused, pressed a hand to his heated face and took a breath. "I could tell you what I'm doing," he suggested, his voice echoing Sokka's whispers.

"O-oh," Sokka breathed and Zuko heard him swallow. "What  _are_  you doing...?" He sounded a little surprised.

Flustered, it took a moment for Zuko to recover enough to answer. "W-well, you know. I mean, nothing yet. I just... um." He reached between his legs then, innocently enough, just a quick adjustment, but when his palm touched, he couldn't help the groan that passed his lips. "Sokka, I- I really want it. Just thinking about you, I- I'm already..." He flushed hot, unable to quite bring himself to say the word.

"Y-Yeah?" came Sokka's breathy voice from the other end of the line. "I... I really want it too," he murmured. "I'm ready... And I just can't stop thinking about it  _all_  the time... I'm going crazy..."

"I know," Zuko mumbled back, empathy beginning to replace the embarrassment Just knowing that the feeling was mutual brought such a wave of relief over him. "Me too... I mean, even just staring at the back of your head in class is so distracting I can't concentrate." Once more, he took a breath, ignoring the flaring of his cheeks and reached down, began to rub tentatively at the front of his pants.

A quietly huffing laugh came from the other end. "Thank you, I think..." Sokka said with another chuckle. Then a long pause and the sensitivity of the cell phone picked up a shuddering breath. "Zuko... what're you doing?" came the whispered, tentative question.

He could have said anything; there was no one watching. But he didn't want to lie to Sokka. Rather, he realized with a flush, he  _wanted_  Sokka to know how much he affected him. "I- I'm... just... touching myself... a little," he whispered.

A quiet groan came as the answer, as though Sokka had suspected as much but the actual confirmation was almost too thrilling. "Me too," he murmured. "J-just talking about it is so..."

"Y-yeah," Zuko agreed, relief rising with their mutual admission. It didn't, however, keep the heat from his face when he tugged loose the button on his jeans, loosening his zipper, gave himself just enough room to slip his fingers under the denim, rubbing just a little more firmly at the cotton of his underwear. "H-have you... ever... you know. Thought- about me when you're...?" he wanted to know, but barely managed to get the question out.

"Um..." Sokka murmured, clearly embarrassed for the admission he was about to make. "Almost every time... For a long time now... I mean... it's... it was part of how... I.. uh... figured it out..." he continued, voice muffled as though he was pressing his face into a pillow.

Zuko flushed again, but allowed himself a surge of pride as he imagined Sokka breathing his name to an empty room. He opened his mouth to speak, then gasped a little as he let his fingers graze the growing dampness of the fabric he teased. "I did it this morning," he confessed. "After you left."

"You did?" Sokka asked, his voice always expressive - surprised and pleased. "Nngh... what... what were you thinking about?"

"I- um, what we might have done if... if you hadn't gone to work," Zuko mumbled, shifting, his breath hissing faintly between his teeth as he palmed harder at himself, relishing the shivers it cast up his arms, through his thighs.

"Mmmm..." Sokka moaned quietly but distinctly into the phone. "I... I think about... like... I think about you lying behind me, all pressed against my back and kissing my neck..." he whispered, breath hitching faintly. "And you know... touching me..."

Almost unconsciously, Zuko turned onto his side, the phone pressing between his ear and the pillow, breaths coming a little heavier now as he continued to hold back from the contact he craved, of skin on skin. He wanted to make it last, just a little longer. "You smell so good," he breathed. "Your hair... and... I mean, you're tough, but your skin is so soft..."

"Zukooo..." The word was clearly supposed to be a whine but it came out much more like a moan. It was so embarrassing to say these kind of things out loud but in the moment, he couldn't help it - had to express what he was feeling somehow and without the luxury of touch, words were the next best thing. "I... I never want to stop when you kiss me," he breathed, nearly inaudible. "You... you just... you're so good... mmm..."

"What are you doing now?" Zuko asked, ignoring the heat of the phone pressed into his cheek, not bothering to brush the hair away when it fell into his eyes.

"I-I-" Sokka's voice faltered and Zuko could hear him swallow. His voice continued in a humiliated murmur. "I'm- well... s-s... I'm stroking... a little... s-sorry, I just..."

"It's okay," Zuko answered hurriedly. "Don't apologize. I- I will too." His stomach jumped at Sokka's words, sensation pooling instantly between his legs and he groaned a little as he pushed aside damp fabric, finally allowing his fingers to circle himself, tight and warm and he squeezed his eyes shut as he began to touch himself with intent.

Sokka moaned again in response, a quiet, tight sound in his throat. "Zuko..." he breathed. "I... I wanna do this to you so bad..."

"Me too..." Zuko answered, voice hoarse as he stroked faster, unable to help wondering what it would feel like with Sokka's hand instead. "I want... b-but you're sure it's okay? I don't... unh... want you to be uncomfortable..."

"Oh, I'm not," Sokka breathed in response, and then huffed another laugh. "Believe me... I'm very... very comfortable right now..." Zuko could head him lick his lips. "I... it just... feels right..."

"Y-yeah," Zuko could only agree, lowering his hand from the phone to join his first, palm slicking across the wetness at his tip while he squeezed tight at his base, his strokes slower, purposefully teasing as he listened to Sokka, waited. "Feels... really really good..."

"Yeah," Sokka agreed and Zuko could hear the pant that was appearing in his breath. "I...I wish I could see you..." he whispered, preceding a quiet whimper.

"We-" Zuko sucked in a quick breath, fingers tightening as a wave of sensation nearly undid him. "We could see each other tomorrow," he murmured, face red, but entirely sincere.

"Yeah," Sokka panted again. "That... that sounds good... oh god... let's do that. Please..."

"Do you work?" Zuko wanted to know, huffing out another breath as his hand began to move again.

"Mmm, only in the morning," Sokka replied, his focus clearly not at its best. "Till one..."

"Come over after?" Zuko answered instantly. "Please?"

"Okay..." Sokka breathed back. "Nnnh... Zuko... I..." He laughed helplessly. "I'm not... very good at talking... right now..." he managed.

Zuko grinned, a quiet laugh on his lips as he shifted onto his back, spreading his knees for better reach, and lifting his hand to the phone once more. "Sokka," he groaned, "I can't... for much longer. T-tell me when...?"

"Soon..." Sokka replied and his breath hitched and Zuko could hear him shift as well. A quiet but unabashed moan reached Zuko's ears, trailing into a quiet whine. Breaths beat against the receiver and echoed in the ear piece of Zuko's phone as Sokka gave in to abandon. His attempts at words were reduced to the other boy's name in tiny whispers, interrupted only by little whimpers and breathy syllables of, "So good... I... I'm so close..."

Zuko left off being careful, didn't bother with light touches. Sokka's voice in his ear was enough to send shivers down his chest, to make him throb in the slick grip of his own hand. He set his pace hard and fast, determined and aroused and echoing every moan that Sokka offered. "So close," he repeated, "Oh god, Sokka..."

"Yes..." Sokka moaned, guttural and desperate and Zuko could hear the fabric shift, could imagine Sokka arching into his own hand, lower back lifting from the bed. "Zuko...!" he gasped, sharp intakes of breath so much louder than they would have been in the room, amplified and hissed right into Zuko's ear. "Nnn-ah! Ah-!"

Zuko shook with the sound of Sokka's voice, with the imagining of his hands, the arch of his spine and the way his lips would part with those pleasured gasps. And it was enough to push him over the edge. "Sokka-!" he choked, "I'm- ah-!" Zuko came hard, spilling in hot pulses over his wrist, his stomach, teeth grit and a groan stifled between them.

Moments of pleasure passed and Sokka's heavy breath rattled in Zuko's ear, interrupted by a long, delighted moan. Satisfaction. " _Damn_ ," was all Sokka could think to breathe.

Zuko managed a breathy chuckle, biting his lip against a quiet moan as he rubbed once at his too-sensitive skin, then released himself to swipe his fingers up through the mess at his navel. "Yeah," he agreed.

"Mmm... thank you..." Sokka murmured after a few minutes of listening to each other breathe, basking in an odd sort of long-distance afterglow.

For once, Zuko's reaction was not to blush. Instead he smiled, a quiet hum in his throat before answering in kind. "Tomorrow is taking too long to get here."

Sokka laughed again and Zuko could hear him shifting, settling in to a more comfortable position. "If tomorrow was right now I wouldn't be much good anyway," he replied with a snicker.

Zuko chuckled, "Don't underestimate yourself," he purred, now, in the after-glow, finding a strange sort of confidence.

"Mmm okay, maybe five minutes from now..." Sokka responded, teasing back. "But that's got nothing to do with me, it's all you..."

"You flatterer," Zuko accused, voice muffling momentarily as he slipped out of his t-shirt, rumpling the fabric to wipe at his skin. His cheeks were only vaguely pink as he finished, kicked out of his jeans and settled again, phone held to his ear.

"Weren't we going to do chores?" Sokka wondered though his voice betrayed no intent of doing such thing or having any regret over the fact.

"Mm? Yeah..." Zuko admitted, laughing a little. "A quick nap first wouldn't hurt though..."

"Yeah, that's a pretty good idea..." Sokka admitted, sounding rather sleepy himself. "But then I can't stay on the phone with you," he whined

"Mm," Zuko considered this. "You do have a point." He sighed and tucked his legs under the blanket, then lifted an arm to rest under his head. "So," he began, the hint of mischievous sneaking into his voice. "Tomorrow? Your place or mine?"

"Ha-ha," Sokka intoned with a little huff of breath. Then, "Yours. It freaks me out enough just  _kissing_  in my house..."

"Hm," Zuko hummed quietly. "Maybe next time I'm at your house I'll forget where the bathroom is and need you to show me again..." he teased.

"Huh?" Sokka said after a moment, clueless.

Zuko was torn between laughing and sighing. "No one will see me kiss you if it's behind a locked door..."

"Oh," Sokka said, considered this for a moment. "Except that I think my sister's nosy hearing would catch it and she'd come pounding on that locked door."

"Well clearly, the solution is to get your sister a boyfriend so she's distracted," Zuko suggested, grinning into the phone.

"Pfffffft," the sound vibrated in Zuko's ear. Then a long pause. "That's really not a bad idea."

"Hey, you're not the only guy with good ideas around here," Zuko retorted. "I'm just saying..."

"Let's talk about this another time when I haven't just been touching myself for half an hour," Sokka said with a snicker.

Zuko laughed at this, the sound fading quickly into a pleased hum. "Sokka," he said after a comfortable quiet moment. "That was... really good."

"Yeah," Sokka sighed happily. "And that's just the beginning..." Zuko could hear the grin in his tone.

"Tomorrow," Zuko agreed. "I'm... I'm glad you feel the same way," he added after a breath.

"Me too," Sokka said, sleepy contentment creeping into his voice. "I think I  _will_  take a nap..." He yawned. "Then I'll do chores..."

"Haha... yeah, me too," Zuko agreed. "Just a short one... Maybe you can call again later tonight? I mean, just to make sure I didn't oversleep..."

"Okay," Sokka replied quickly. "Sure. I'll do that. Mm... I'll talk to you then, I guess?" There was an obvious reluctance to hang up the phone.

"Yeah," Zuko answered, his tone reflecting Sokka's. "That sounds good."

"Okay. I'll...talk to you then," he said again and Zuko heard the sound that he knew by now was Sokka slapping his own forehead. "B-bye..."

Zuko almost managed to swallow the fond chuckle that slipped from his throat. "Sleep well," he answered, finger brushing over the 'end' button, but not quite yet pushing it.

"You too..." For a long moment, Sokka's breath lingered over the line but finally the call ended.

Zuko sighed, only the faintest hint of disappointment coloring the pleasant warmth that settled in his chest as he closed his phone and pulled the blanket over his shoulders. Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough.

 


	33. Chapter 33

The following day, Sokka had said that he was off work at 1:00. At 1:15, Zuko's phone rang.

After a handful of rings, Zuko picked up, his voice coming cheerily through the receiver. "Hey!"

"Hey!" Sokka answered, equally cheerful. "Guess what!" There was a barely contained excitement in Sokka's voice.

"What is it?"

"My dad's coming home!" Sokka squealed. "There's a HUGE storm system out at sea and his ship was forced to dock. So he's taking some time, driving inland and flying home!"

"Oh, that's awesome!" Zuko replied. "When's he getting in?"

"His plane is getting in in a couple hours - we're going to go out to the airport to pick him up! I guess he left a message on our answering machine yesterday morning but Grangran never checked it."

"That's... that's really great, Sokka," Zuko answered after a moment, his voice just a little quieter, but the words no less sincere. "It's been a while since you saw him, huh?"

"Yeah," Sokka answered, sobering just a little. "Not since November - he couldn't even come home for Christmas so we had it then. He cleared his throat then, paused and Zuko could hear his car starting. "We - um, we're doing family dinner tonight but later this week we're inviting friends over... would you like to... come over for dinner?"

There was a pause then, long enough to be just a little uncomfortable. "Are you sure it'd be okay?" Zuko finally asked. "I mean... you know..."

"Y-yeah," Sokka assured him only a little hesitantly. "I mean... I don't... I'm not ready to  _tell_  him yet... but you're still my friend, right? There's no reason you shouldn't come over like Aang and Toph..."

"That's true," Zuko agreed, "I guess it won't be too weird if I'm just one of the gang, yeah?"

"Right," Sokka agreed. "And... well... Even though we're not...  _telling_  him... I still really want you to meet my dad." Sokka's voice turned sheepish with these words.

"That's... I'm really glad you think that," Zuko answered, voice hardly above a murmur. "I want to meet him too."

"Yeah well..." Sokka mumbled bashfully. "I... well... ugh. I'm really sorry about today... can I give you a rain check?"

"O-of course. I mean, of course I wish I could see you, but... I understand this is important." His words faded into something of an embarrassed mumble.

"Thank you," Sokka said sincerely. "I'll see you at school tomorrow, okay?"

"Yeah, I'll see you then... And... have a good time, okay?"

"Okay. Have a good evening... bye."

The next two days found Sokka in unusually good spirits, bubbling with joy and stories repeated from his father's work or funny things he'd said since he arrived. During lunches, he stole Zuko away privately to eat with him alone in the dim music room and afterwords shower him with attention and kisses and apologies for not being able to come over in the evenings.

For Zuko's part, those brief meetings were sweet and painfully tempting, but he did his best to remain unselfish, to understand that he could have Sokka nearly any time he wanted, but that this was one of those rare weeks in which Sokka was able to spend time with his father. And so he smiled, and kissed Sokka hungrily, and pulled away when the lunch bell rang with only a small sigh.

"I'm home!" Sokka called cheerfully on Tuesday afternoon after he'd hurried home. Katara had her dance class after school which meant he could have their father all to himself for a few hours.

GranGran was in the front room watching television and she called out a greeting over her shoulder. "That son-in-law of mine got it in his head to do yard work while he was here. Couldn't talk him out of it so he's out back plantin' those trees I've been meaning to take from their pots. Well go on! Give him a hand! Lazy boy..."

Sokka winced a little, dropping his bag off in the living room before he headed into the backyard and back into the warm afternoon sunlight. "Dad?" he called and as he rounded the back end of the house and came upon his father who was knelt in the dirt. "I was gonna help GranGran with that - you didn't have to," he said guiltily, recalling in his mind just what had delayed that task the weekend before.

Hakoda looked up from the freshly turned earth with a wide smile for his son, and wiped the sheen from his forehead with the back of a hand. "Sokka, when you spend as much time on the water as I do, you appreciate the chance to get your hands dirty once in a while. Contrary to what your grandmother might say, I am, in fact enjoying myself." He stood then, waving Sokka forward to wrap him up in a quick, tight hug. "Wouldn't mind you joining me though."

"Okay." Sokka gave sheepish but happy grin. "I'll get more soil," he offered, crossing the yard to drag back a heavy bag of planting soil to replace the one his father had nearly gone through. "Did I tell you about the deck that I built this spring?" he asked as he plopped it down in the work space.

Hakoda smiled, nodding as he tore open the new bag, digging his bare hands into it briefly. "You may have mentioned something like that in a letter," he replied, "But I'd love to hear more about it." He handed Sokka a trowel and picked up his own as he moved to an empty area of ground where the next sapling would find new root.

Sokka hurried to join his father on the ground, dropping to his knees in the soft earth. "It's  _almost_  done," Sokka informed him. "It's taken MONTHS but all we have left to do is seal about half of it. It looks amazing. It was a lot of fun."

"You said it was for your friend's uncle?" Hakoda seemed to recall, casting a fond glance in his son's direction.

"Yep," Sokka replied, his voice chipper. "Aang and Toph and Katara helped a little on it but they got bored with it pretty quick so it was mostly just me and Zuko."

"Your new friend?" Hakoda clarified with interest. It had been a while since Sokka had made any friends outside of his small group.

"Yep!" Sokka said. "Well, I mean, relatively new. I met him at the beginning of the year, in the middle of January. So not  _that_  new. But you haven't met him."

"Will he be joining us for dinner this week?" his father wanted to know, his eyes now on the deepening hole they were preparing for the second small apple tree, though his attention still remained Sokka's.

"Yeah - we were thinking that tomorrow night Toph and Aang and him could come over for dinner. GranGran said it was okay."

"That sounds good," Hakoda nodded. "It's been too long since I've seen your friends. And," he added. "I've got to do my fatherly duty and make sure this boy you've made friends with is going to be a good influence."

"Hah!" Sokka let out a sudden bark of too-loud laughter. "Yeah! No - I mean, pfft. Everybody seems to think he's a good influence because I don't play as many video games anymore."

Hakoda chuckled lightly. "Well, I suppose that  _is_  a good thing. It's nice to get outside once in a while, hm?"

"Yeah. I didn't even realize how much I missed it until I got off my butt again," he admitted. Then paused, continued, "Having a friend my age helped a lot. He helped me a lot." He didn't really feel like it was too revealing - it was true, anyway. And he really wanted his dad to like Zuko even if they weren't going to tell him what was going on. Putting a good word in didn't seem like a bad idea.

Hakoda was nodding thoughtfully, grateful and content to have his son talking openly with him. "I'm glad to hear that," he spoke, reaching out to squeeze at Sokka's shoulder. "Those sort of friendships are what make life worthwhile."

A faint grin tugged at Sokka's mouth as his father caught his eye. "Yeah," he said again. "Zuko's uncle is awesome too! He's like a master at Pai Sho - you know, that table top game I like? He writes books about it and everything so we play sometimes."

Hakoda laughed. "Now that really is fate, hm? Meeting someone else who likes that game?" he teased, ruffling Sokka hair briefly before turning back to his digging with a grin.

"It's not  **that**  unusual!" Sokka protested with a laugh of his own. He looked down as he poked at the earth again with his trowel. "I'm really glad you could come home, dad."

Hakoda leaned to bump Sokka's shoulder lightly, an affectionate contact. "Seeing you and your sister," he began, "doing so well and... looking so happy... I couldn't ask for anything better than that." He didn't apologize for his absence. It was a talk they'd had many times, and more than once already during this visit had Sokka hushed his father's regrets.

"Hey, we're just lucky to have a dad who works so hard to take care of us all," Sokka said with grinning pride. There was no question of how much Sokka respected his father - he was sad that he didn't see more of him but he knew that everything Hakoda did was for his family. He boasted of his father's bravery, a man who challenged the wrath of the sea to put food on their table. In this day and age it was nothing short of heroic in Sokka's eyes and he never hesitated to say so.

"Alright, kid, hand me that tree. We're gonna plant her now." Hakoda gave Sokka a firm pat on the shoulder, not bothering to hide the smile of pride he wore for his son.

"Where's Bato today?" Sokka wondered as he hefted the small tree closer to the fresh hole.

"Hm? Oh, Gran sent him on some errands," Hakoda laughed and helped Sokka settle the trees roots into the earth. "Seems she doesn't mind making guests work when they're practically part of the family."

Sokka laughed. "Oh, you should see her when Aang or Zuko are over! Get any able bodied man in the house and she starts ordering them around in no time! "

Hakoda chuckled at this. "Guess she likes your new friend too, hm?"

"Yeah, she actually liked him even before I did, I think," Sokka chuckled, recalling the first time they'd brought Zuko home. Even though he and Katara both were wary of Zuko, GranGran had treated him kindly and sent him home with food.

"Well," Hakoda considered, indicating for Sokka to hold the tree steady while he knelt and began filling in the hole. "Your grandmother has always been a good judge of character."

"Did she like YOU when she met you?" Sokka asked with a grin.

"..Okay, so occasionally she misjudged people," Hakoda admitted, chuckling lightly.

Sokka burst out laughing though he still held the tree steady. "I knew it! NOBODY likes the person their kid is dating, right?"

Hakoda's eyes twinkled with mirth and he shook his head with a shrug. "I suppose it's an unspoken rule," he admitted. "Though not -always- true." He'd been very fond of Yue, though he only met her once.

"Yeah," Sokka agreed hopefully. Maybe if he got his dad to like Zuko BEFORE he found out they were dating, it wouldn't be so terrible when he worked up the courage to tell Hakoda... "But I bet Grangran would have treated Zuko a lot different if KATARA had brought him home instead of me and Aang!"

"Well," Hakoda nodded thoughtfully, "I'm sure GranGran would have been perfectly civil and grilled him on everything from chivalry to what sort of wages he earns."

"Is that what she did to you?" Sokka asked, snickering.

"More or less," Hakoda chuckled. "Probably more, now that I remember it." He shoveled a few more trowel-fulls of dirt and began to pat it down, firming the ground's hold on the newly planted tree.

"I know  _I'd_ be terrified if I went to pick up a girl for a date and GranGran was waiting to grill me on the front porch... That's how we  _really_ know you're a brave guy, dad."

"Well thank you, Sokka. It's always nice to know that one's efforts are appreciated. Though if truth be told, it wasn't until the 5th date that I worked up the courage to meet her. Your mother finally insisted." Hakoda grinned sheepishly, remembering.

As they finished the job, planting three more trees, Sokka had a particularly keen interest in hearing about his parent's courtship. He was full of questions about how they met, how long they dated before they decided to marry, what made him fall for her.

Hakoda, for his part, seemed willing to talk, the sting of losing his wife softened with the years and memories of her sweet to dwell upon instead of aching. "I'm sure you'll understand all this in time," he told Sokka. "When you find someone special of your own." There was a particular glint in Hakoda's eye, however that said he suspected the real reason for Sokka's questions was that he'd in fact, found that someone already.

Sokka nodded, flushing a little. "Yeah," he agreed, fidgeted a little. "Sorry if it's hard to talk about," he amended belatedly. It was hard enough, he realized, for him to talk about Yue and he'd known her for less than a year.

"No, it's good for you to hear these things," Hakoda shook off Sokka's concern. "Your mother herself might be having this talk with you, but it's the least I can do to try and be a substitute." He smiled and wiped the dirt from his hands on his knees and reached to squeeze Sokka's shoulder again.

Sokka grinned thankfully. "Thanks, dad," he said with a nod.

"Don't mention it," Hakoda replied, cuffing Sokka gently on the arm. "You'll forgive your ol' dad if he says anything embarrassing to your innocent teenager ears, right?"

"Pfft, like what?"

"Oh, I don't know, like the best places around the house to make out without GranGran catching you," he shrugged, all nonchalance.

"W-what!" Sokka yelped, blushing predictably. He hadn't thought his father actually  _could_  come up with something! "Ugh - dad!"

 


	34. Chapter 34

Toward the end of school the next day, Sokka's stomach was in knots. It wasn't that he thought they'd be figured out - he'd got Katara to promise not to tell, had warned Aang and Toph very sharply not to say anything weird. He knew Zuko wouldn't do anything dangerous. But none of this seemed to ease his nerves at all as their extended family dinner crept closer.

When Sokka left school, the others waved cheerily and Zuko, who was getting a ride over with Toph said they'd be there at 5, as GranGran had already instructed. In the meantime, Sokka was to help his father get the house ready for guests and help GranGran with the last of the dinner preparations.

Aang arrived early with Katara and was quick to busy himself helping Grangran in the kitchen. At five sharp, the Be Fong family's driver parked in front of their house and Toph kicked the car door open. "They're here," Katara called from the front room and went to the door to let Toph and Zuko in.

"Yo Sugar," Toph announced as she stepped into the house, followed closely by Zuko, dressed in a collared shirt and black slacks, more done up than Katara had ever seen him and looking just a little uncomfortable beside Toph's bright green hoodie and jeans. "So I hear Hakoda is in town," she grinned. "I was starting to miss having someone to talk shit about you all with."

Hakoda's laughter could be heard from the dining room as Bato joined them in the front room, chuckling. "Hello, Toph," he greeted.

"Zuko, this is Bato," Katara introduced politely. "He's our dad's friend - he's like our uncle."

"Nice to finally meet you," Bato said with a smile and a firm handshake for the teen.

Zuko returned the shake and nodded politely, glancing between Bato and Katara, wondering just what the man had heard about him. "It's a pleasure," he answered, swallowing his own nervousness and doing his best not to look around for Sokka.

As for Toph, she was already making her way toward the dining room, steps sure in the familiar house. "I hear you laughing, you old fart," she grinned. "Are you ready to face the wrath of the Bei Fong arm of steel? I've been practicing and I'm totally taking you down this time!"

A door shut upstairs and Sokka trotted down the steps, startled when Toph passed him at the bottom. "Oh! You guys are here!" He hurried to the front room, giving Zuko a little grin. "Hey. Come in!"

"Hello, Zuko," Grangran greeted him as they crossed paths in the dining room, her voice as unimpressed as it was unless she was ordering someone around. "You are looking very sharp."

Zuko managed to shake away the flush that threatened to spring to his cheeks. "Thank you, GranGran," he nodded shyly as his eyes swept over the figures already in the room, settling on Sokka for some sort of guidance. "And thank you for having me," he added.

Grangran hummed in response and Aang called his greetings to both his friends from the kitchen.

"Come meet my dad," Sokka said, reaching to give Zuko's sleeve a little tug and get just close enough to whisper, "You do look really nice."

Zuko tried to rub the blush away from his cheeks before they reached the threshold. "Thanks," he mumbled back. "Uncle picked it out..."

Hakoda, Bato and Toph had moved to the living room and Bato was laughing as his friend was squaring fists with the small girl. "Hakoda, I am *never* going to let you live it down if she actually beats you."

Hakoda managed a huff of laughter as Toph gained an inch to her advantage. "And then I'll let you go second," he threatened.

"Hey, Dad?" Sokka interrupted and in that one tiny fraction of distraction, Toph snarled like an animal, startling everyone in the room. So much so that when she gave a great surge of strength that thumped Hakoda's hand down on the table.

"AAAHAHAHA!" she screamed with laughter, jumping to her feet and throwing her head back. "TOPH IS AGAIN VICTORIOUS!"

Bato dissolved into laughter and even GranGran shook her head, hiding the quirk of a grin behind her weathered hand.

Hakoda sighed good-naturedly and turned toward his son with a raise of brow. "Do you see this?" he chuckled. "See what you made me do?"

"Oh yeah, Toph rules. The crowd goes wild. 'Ahhhhh. Ahhhhhhh"..."

Sokka just shrugged and inspected his nails. "Maybe you should have better focus next time."

Hakoda shook his head and reached out to snatch at his son's arm, drawing him close enough to rough up his hair. "Listen here, you, that's no way to talk to your old man."

He was rewarded with an indignant squawk, Sokka struggling in his father's grip. "Not the haaaair, Dad!" he shrieked, wrenching free to frantically try to fix the disaster. "Um - Dad - This is Zuko."

Zuko snapped to attention, looking vaguely startled when he finally met Hakoda's eyes. "I-it's very nice to meet you," he said quickly, bowing just a little too deeply and cursing the heat in his cheeks. He was only meeting Sokka's dad. And only as a 'friend' anyway. Why should he be so nervous?

Hakoda chuckled and grasped Zuko's hand in a tight grip, his other hand closing over both of theirs. "Nice to meet you, young man," he said earnestly. "I've heard good things from my entire family about you. Thank you for joining us for dinner."

For a moment, Zuko could only nod, eyes fixed on their joined hands and steadfastly avoiding Hakoda's face. "Y-yes. Thank you for having me." He wasn't quite sure he believed that Katara had said anything nice about him, but still, the gesture was a kind one and it, at least somewhat, began to let Zuko feel a bit more at ease. "Sokka... has told me a lot about you as well," he added.

With a clap on the back of his hand, Hakoda released Zuko's grip, catching Sokka's watchful eye with a smile. "Maybe you boys should see if Grangran needs anymore help. I think I've got a rematch to take care of."

"What is this girl *made* of?" Bato demanded to know from behind them, at the table with Toph who was giving him a run for his money, teeth bared in determination.

"Steel and guts!" Toph crowed, gritting her teeth hard and refusing to be distracted by those around her.

Zuko silently thanked Hakoda for providing a momentary escape and he nodded, bowing out of the dining room to seek out GranGran in the kitchen.

Sokka laughed at their antics, giving Zuko's shoulder a friendly bump as they crossed the house again. He didn't say anything though, just worked on setting the table while Grangran instructed Zuko on putting the finishing touches on the baked fish. The house smelled incredible with the aromas of fish fresh from the arctic filling the air. More than once Zuko and Grangran and Aang kicked Sokka out of the kitchen when he tried to steal samples.

"If I keep letting you taste it, there won't be any left for your father!" Zuko protested, the third time Sokka tried to sneak up on the fish when Zuko's back was turned.

Sokka laughed and then yelped when his grandmother smacked him on the back of the head with an oven mitt and chased him out of the kitchen with threats to whoop him like he was eight.

Katara finally joined them in the kitchen to start taking the food out to the table. "So this is our family," she said a little quietly to Zuko. "Too weird for you yet?"

Zuko laughed a little, shook his head. "You haven't spent an evening with -my- family. This... this is amazing," he answered truthfully. "Your family."

Katara offered him a smile but quickly turned away to take some food to the table. Only a few minutes later, everyone was being called in and dinner was being served. The table was tightly cramped between the many mouths to feed and dishes to be had. Big bowls of salad and steamed vegetables were passed around and Grangran served the marinated sea bass in generous portions. Aang and Toph were quick to demand stories from the two family members more often than not absent and were rewarded by a retelling of an amazing catch that had recently brought more fish on board than their deck could even handle.

Zuko listened with rapt, but quiet attention, contributing little more to the conversation than a curious ear and the occasional nod or exclamation. Still, it didn't take long before he started to relax, to remember that Sokka's father or no, he was among friends and thus far hadn't done anything terribly stupid or awkward.

"Have you ever tried to bust a fish in half with your bare hands?" Toph wanted to know.

"Toph!" Aang, on the other hand did not want to know this or think about it at all.

Where Aang and Katara were horrified, Sokka, Hakoda and Bato burst out laughing at the question and Hakoda answered, "No, I can't say as I've ever thought to try that."

Toph only smirked back, having clearly expected this answer and cocked a finger haughtily his direction. "Practice that a few times and then get back to me on the arm-wrestling. It's not fun unless it's a challenge."

Hakoda gaped while Sokka and Bato only laughed harder and Aang and Katara were even more aghast.

"PLEASE don't actually do that, Dad," Katara begged.

"But Katara!" Hakoda protested, only half joking. "I've got my honor to protect!"

Zuko, meanwhile, was chuckling into his drink, stealing glances at Sokka, glad to see him clearly having so much fun.

"Only a real man could tear a fish clean in two," Bato leaned over to tease, clapping Hakoda on the shoulder. "I'll make sure to have a camera ready when you try."

"Maybe start with something simple, Dad," Sokka joked, elbowing his father. "Like a goldfish!"

"UGH - Enough of this at the table!" Katara snapped, slapping a hand down."Grangran, say something!"

Everyone glanced at the old woman.

"Your father isn't man enough to tear a fish in half."

"GranGran!" Hakoda protested, his expression very near pouting.

Bato, Sokka and Toph were moved to tears, Aang and Zuko both snickered into their cups and even Katara quirked a very quick smirk before steeling herself with a shake of the head. "You're just encouraging them!" she gaped.

Grangran just shrugged and took a bite of her fish without a word and chuckling, Hakoda assured his daughter that he would never tear a fish in half unless the fish started the fight first. With chuckles and chatter dissolving around the table, pitchers and platters were passed around. Hakoda spoke up again, turning his attention to their newest guest at Sokka's side.

"So - Zuko, do you play Pii Sho as well?" he asked. "Is that how you two met?"

"It's *PAI* Sho, Dad," Sokka interrupted with exasperation.

Zuko smiled and Hakoda coughed. "Forgive me my sins, my son," he intoned, giving Zuko a good idea of the origin of Sokka's own love of sarcasm.

"My uncle tried to teach me, but I'm afraid I'm a lost cause," Zuko explained, casting an amused look to Sokka. "No, actually we sort of met at the arcade. Then later again at school through Aang."

"They hated each other at first!" Aang piped, grinning at Zuko, clearly pleased to have been remembered.

"We didn't *hate* each other," Sokka protested sheepishly. "We just didn't necessarily... *like* each other."

"They hated each other," Toph put in helpfully while Katara pushed some peas around on her plate silently.

"Well," Zuko rubbed at his arm, clearly a bit embarrassed "I was going through a difficult time then and Sokka ended up being a really big help, so..."

"Everyone thought he ate babies and worshiped Hitler," Toph added seriously, nodding as she helped herself to more fish.

"-I- didn't!" Aang pointed out.

"No one REALLY did," Sokka said with a roll of his eyes. "It was just a bunch of dumb rumors."

"Kids can say really nasty things," Hakoda said with a chuckle, clearly unshaped by Toph's announcement. "You two are in the same grade then?" he asked.

Zuko nodded. "We have history with Mr. Zei together. And Math."

Between mouthfuls of peas, Aang added, "We had Home Ec together. Zuko makes awesome cake."

"Ah... th-thanks," Zuko mumbled, finding it a little awkward to be the center of the conversation.

Sokka smirked at him, giving the other boy a nudge from ankle to ankle under the table but then startled a little when his father spoke up again.

"Well, a friend of Sokka's is always welcome in our house, just so you know," Hakoda said with a warm smile. "You boys are just a little older than Bato and I were when we met. Now just look at how old he is."

Though Zuko's mouth was open to mumble further thanks for Hakoda's kind words, he didn't have the chance before a back of incredulous laughter came from the other end of the table. "Me?" Bato interrupted, laughing, "Old? Nonsense! You conveniently forget I'm two months younger than you!"

"And you look two years older," Hakoda shot back with a wry smirk.

"And I can haul in twice the catch you can," Bato replied, aiming a pointing finger across the table.

"Not for long," Hakoda shrugged. "Once that arthritis starts to kick in."

"At least I can still remember where the head is," Bato replied with a sad shake of his head, turning his voice to Katara beside him. "It's so terrible, your father's Alzheimer's."

Katara rolled her eyes, but it was evident that she was making a valiant attempt not to break into giggles.

"Oh I remember where the head is," Hakoda answered. "It was poor Bato here who ended up mistaking it for his own bunk one night. We found him all curled up the next morning drooling on the floor with his hand in the-"

"Kids," Bato interrupted, gravely serious. "Don't listen to anything your father says. Ever."

When the laughter had quieted, Aang spoke up, "Working on a fishing ship sounds awesome. Except for all the dead fish."

Hakoda chuckled, nodding in understanding. "It's a tough job," he agreed, "And the smell of fish isn't a pretty one, but how many people can say they get to spend every day with their best friend?"

Bato snorted. "I think he means putting fish guts in the bed roll of his 'best friend'."

Sokka gave a bark of laughter. "Did you really do that, Dad? That's awesome."

"That reminds me of the time that Katara and I put all of your underwear in the freezer," Toph mused, tapping her spoon against her lip.

"That *wasn't* awesome," Sokka groused.

Katara chuckled. "Oh yeah, it was awesome."

"I'm sorry I missed that," Zuko added. "Did you get them wet first?"

"We smushed them all into a pail and then poured water over it," Toph elaborated. "So the next morning it was like a tighty whitie popsicle."

"Are you sure you're not one of my kids?" Hakoda wanted to know.

"You'll have to take that up with my mother," Toph sassed.

"Just don't let Mr. Bei Fong find out," Bato joked.

GranGran just cast her son-in-law a fierce stare as if daring Hakoda to sully her late daughter's reputation. The glare that could melt lead was pretty difficult to avoid and nervous laughter suddenly fell from Hakoda's lips. "Just kidding, just kidding!"

"Hmph," was Gragran's reply. "Besides, if Toph was family, she takes after *me*."

Toph grinned. "GranGran is awesome," she announced, then with a raised brow, addressed both Hakoda and Bato. "-She- could beat me at arm-wrestling."

Both men groaned quietly as the children laughed at them. "We're never going to live this one down," Bato complained.

As the conversation shifted and Hakoda turned his attention to Aang and Toph, asking them about school, Sokka spared a glance at Zuko, making sure he looked like he was okay. Zuko caught his eye just briefly, smiled a little, nodded almost imperceptibly. There was still an air of nervousness about him, but he'd relaxed considerably since earlier and though the urge to reach for Sokka's hand under the table was strong, he swallowed it back reminding himself that there would be plenty of time for that later.

Dessert was served and for a good five minutes, all talk around the table faded as those assembled happily devoured peach cobbler and ice cream. After, Katara and Sokka cleared the table and allowed their father, grandmother and guests to retire to the living room where the siblings could hear the laughter and carrying on resume, if a little quieter than at the dinner table while everyone let their food settle.

"Well," Katara murmured, not unpleasantly. "Dad seems to like him."

"Yeah," Sokka replied with a wide grin as he carried a pile of dishes to the sink. "I'm really glad... I mean, not that I ever had a doubt. What's not to like?"

Katara managed to mostly cover her wry snort, but in all honesty, her mood was too good for arguing and she was, at the least, glad to see her brother relaxed and happy.

With the dishes soaking, they joined the others and Katara pushed her way between her father and Bato on the couch. Sokka meanwhile tugged at Zuko's sleeve, more or less unnoticed when he coaxed the other boy to follow him through the sliding glass and into the cool night air.

Zuko was a little surprised, but he followed Sokka quietly, honestly relieved to step outside for a moment. Once they were alone, he took a deep steadying breath, stretched and offered Sokka a grin. "Your dad's a good guy," he observed.

Sokka wandered across their stone patio and into the darker recesses of the lawn where the light from the house and the street lamps on the other side didn't reach. "Yeah," he agreed with his own grin to match, relieved to see Zuko smile. "He likes you. Even Katara said so."

Zuko gave a small but audible sigh of relief. "Do you really think so? I was sort of quiet through dinner..."

"It doesn't matter," Sokka assured him, crossing the lawn to lean against the worn wooden fence that circled their yard. "Dad's a good judge of people. And what matters is you said the *right* things." He grinned at the other boy, teeth a dim shine in the dark. "Thank you for coming..."

Zuko joined him, taking a spot against the fence, close enough to reach for Sokka's hand, but not quite daring more than a brief brush of fingers. "Thank you for wanting me here," was Zuko's answer.

"Of course I do," Sokka chided, his own fingers stretching a little when Zuko's brushed his. He turned a little, shoulder and temple to the fence as he followed the outlines of faint, distant light as they traced Zuko's features. He hesitated. "You're... um... okay, right?" he asked, wincing inwardly as the words left his mouth.

Zuko's answer was subdued, his smile fading to something more thoughtful. He understood Sokka's meaning, understood that comparing this family to his own was inevitable. And yes, his thoughts had strayed there more than once, but he couldn't bring himself to be upset or dwell on feelings of jealousy. Not when every member of Sokka's family -even Katara- was already treating him as though he belonged there. "You're very lucky. To have a father who loves you so much," he murmured, acknowledging Sokka's worry with words that were admittedly difficult to speak. "But... I guess I'm pretty lucky too. To have a boyfriend who welcomes me into his home and trusts me with his family."

Sokka pushed down a swallow that he found tight in his throat, equally tight in his chest. He couldn't stop himself from reaching for the other boy's hand, threading his fingers with Zuko's warm ones, telling himself that no one would be able to see them anyway. For once in his life, he couldn't think of anything to say - damnably enough, he thought, especially when he couldn't wrap his arms around the other boy like he wanted to. That temptation drew him a little closer, fingers squeezing tight at Zuko's hand and lips longing to press a kiss to his cheek, his mouth.

Curled closer into the dark space they shared, Sokka murmured reluctantly, "I guess we shouldn't stay out here too long."

Zuko nodded, sighed around the urge to press his brow to Sokka's, to keep him outside longer. "Yeah," he agreed, then added. "Go ahead and go in. I'll be in in a minute." He smiled to reassure Sokka that all was well and squeezed his hand once more.

Sokka's blue eyes hesitated but then he nodded, understanding and pushed away from the fence with a lingering and reluctant brush of fingers. The glass door scratched open and shut behind him, leaving Zuko in the quiet yard momentarily. It wasn't but a minute or two later though than the sound of the door startled him again and Sokka's father was shutting it again behind him. On the patio, he dug in his pocket, producing a pack of cigarettes which he packed against his palm a few times before he glanced up to notice the young man across the yard. With a smile, he tucked the pack back in his pocket and crossed the patio to sink into a lawn chair at the edge of the grass.

"It's a nice evening, isn't it?" Hakoda spoke up casually.

Zuko blinked a little, but pushed away from the fence, standing straight again, politely. He nodded, allowed a small smile to tug at his lips. "Really nice," he agreed, tucking his hands away in his pockets, a nervous gesture.

The older man's chuckle just barely made it to his ears, Hakoda sinking more comfortably into the seat and closing his eyes. "I almost forget how nice it can be when I'm away from home," he mused. "It's hard sometimes to remember what above twenty feels like!"

Zuko echoed Hakoda's quiet laughter, shifted his weight from one foot to the other, debating whether to sit or remain standing. But it was awkward to loom over this man, so he crossed to the second chair and sat on the edge, his feet on the ground and elbows on his knees. "You don't get much time alone with your family," Zuko murmured after a moment. "It's... generous of you to welcome me- well, us, into your home."

Hakoda opened his eyes to offer a smile to Zuko. "It's important to me to know as much of my children as I can while I'm at home - and one thing that I can't see through letters and phone calls is their friends. It's heartening for me to know that my family is in good hands when I'm not here."

Zuko was grateful for the dim yellow of the patio light and the dark sky that hid the way his face flushed with Hakoda's words. "He talks about you sometimes," Zuko murmured. "I think he'd do it more but..." He trailed off, surprised at how easily he'd almost begun to talk about himself.

The aged blue eyes that matched Sokka's looked at him, questioning but he didn't press Zuko to finish, instead speaking up again. "I'm very lucky to have a family that's so understanding," he stated. "My job is difficult for all of us but I think they've come to forgive me."

Zuko's eyes widened a little. "Oh, no, Sokka is so proud of you!" he answered, worried that he'd given the wrong impression. "When he called me Sunday to tell me you were coming... he was so happy! He... he knows that what you're doing is important. I- I guess it's not my place to say so, but I think he feels really lucky to have you for a dad." Zuko fell suddenly quiet, a little embarrassed by his outburst and he turned his eyes away from Hakoda to stare at the ground.

Hakoda blinked at him a few times, then smiled softly, turning his head to cough a little, then rubbed at a shoulder momentarily. "Thank you for saying so," he said quietly to Zuko. Then a steadying sigh. "Sokka tells me you live with your uncle."

Zuko looked up again, a little surprised that Sokka had spoken of him to his father enough for Hakoda to know this. "His name is Iroh. We live at the bottom of the Hill? About 15 minutes from here. Near Toph's family."

A nod. "That's a nice neighborhood. Sokka also said you two built him a deck this spring."

Now Zuko smiled. "Yeah... I think Uncle gave us the project mostly to keep us out of trouble, though." He laughed a little, rubbed at the heat that lingered stubbornly in his cheeks. "I'm not very good at building things," he explained.

Hakoda chuckled at this admission. "That doesn't matter as long as you enjoy it," he said, then amended. "Well, and maybe not break any limbs. It's all finished then?"

"Uh huh," Zuko nodded. "And no broken bones! Maybe a few smashed fingers though. A couple splinters," he admitted. "Mostly me. Sokka's much better with a hammer."

"I'm home until next Monday," Hakoda mused. "Perhaps... if your uncle wouldn't mind... I might be able to stop by and see it?"

"Huh? Uh, y-yeah, of course," Zuko blinked curiously, a little surprised by the request, but a moment later realizing that he'd probably like to see something his son had built. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind. Um, anytime after school, I guess?"

"Or," Hakoda continued thoughtfully, "I mean, if your uncle is the sociable type, of course... I did bring home plenty more fish... and it's really much better barbecued than baked..." He thumbed at his goatee, brow furrowed in consideration.

Zuko laughed. "Uncle? He's just about the most sociable person I know. And he's pretty good with a barbecue too... He was busy tonight, but... I'm pretty sure he's free for the rest of the week."

"Only if he wants the best salmon he's ever tasted," Hakoda said with an innocent shrug and a wink for the young man. He certainly didn't want to just invite himself over.

"I'll talk to him tomorrow, first thing," Zuko nodded, beaming. "And... I'll have Sokka pass on the message?"

Hakoda chuckled approvingly. "Sound perfect. Thank you," he added.

"Thank -you-," Zuko corrected. "You... I mean..." he flushed, looked down at his knees. "I think Sokka -is- lucky. You... seem like a really good guy."

The older man laughed but it wasn't a callous or jarring sound, but a mirthful, pleased laugh. "Thank you, Zuko," he said, eyes crinkling with his smile. "You seem like a really good guy too." He paused, settling in a little more in a comfortable slouch. "One of the hardest things about being a parent is when your kids start getting old enough to really make their own decisions." He caught Zuko's gold eyes in the dim light as he spoke. "But it's a lot less scary when you see them deciding to bring good people into their lives."

For a long moment, Zuko could only stare, eyes tentative, but settling on Hakoda's face as though looking for some sign there, something that would reveal a lack of sincerity. But he found nothing except that his own throat was tight and Zuko swallowed hard, finally nodding. "I- I'm really glad... It- it's really... really good to hear you say that," he finished, voice breaking embarrassingly on the last word. "You don't know how much that means," he added, unable to speak more than a whisper. Maybe it was dangerous to show Hakoda how effected he was by the man's words, but he couldn't help it. He wasn't any good at hiding his feelings.

Hakoda closed his eyes briefly, gave a faint nod. Then, "If I know my son, he's probably inside panicking about what embarrassing things I must be saying to you."

Zuko laughed then, a short awkward bark and he pressed a palm to each eye briefly, sniffed back the emotion he had managed to mostly contain. "Yeah," he agreed, then shook himself mentally, searched for his center again and grinned. "So aren't you gonna tell me at least one embarrassing story that I can hang over his head later before we go back in?"

He considered this briefly. "Once when he was three, he ate about a dozen snails, shells and all and we had to take him to the hospital to have his stomach pumped."

"Really?" Zuko gaped, then dissolved into helpless laughter. "Oh, that's good. I'll save that for the next time he criticizes my food choices," he shook his head, still chuckling at the image of three year old Sokka with a mouthful of snails. "I guess I should go back in," he murmured after a moment. "Let you have your smoke break," he added apologetically.

Hakoda just smiled and told him, "I'll be in in a minute."

After he'd stood and began to move toward the door, Zuko paused and looked back. "Maybe you can bring out the baby pictures next," he suggested with a mischievous grin.

Eyebrows were raised. Then a smirk. "I like the way you think. We can embarrass both of them at once."

"Sounds good," Zuko chuckled, then lifted a hand and nodded before ducking back instead, his pulse a little fluttery but his heart much lighter.

The night went much better than either of the boys could have imagined, even when Hakoda got out the photo albums and Katara shrieked in horror at him while he proudly showed off pictures of her in Halloween costumes from a decade earlier. They passed the albums around and laughing, Aang would describe each one to Toph, only adding to the utter humiliation. It was even comfortable enough that Sokka was able to toss an arm around Zuko, squeezing his neck with threats of violence were he ever to describe a photo of when at age six, his sister had convinced him into letting Katara experiment with his mother's make up on his face.

For his part, Zuko was able to relax much more after his conversation with Hakoda, and when, once or twice, he glanced up to find Hakoda smiling fondly in their direction, instead of feeling awkward, he just felt... warm. Like he was somewhere he could belong.

 


	35. Chapter 35

So far, the celebration had gone very well - Sokka had been more than a little nervous about everyone being on the deck, in spite of his pride in their workmanship. But even with the five friends, one grandmother, one uncle, one father, one adopted father and one honorary uncle, the new structure didn't so much as creak in protest. Iroh was thoroughly embarrassing Zuko with his 'Kiss Me I'm Asian' apron as he manned the barbecue while Aang's guardian, Gyastu was regaling some vegetarian recipe in his quiet and zen enthusiasm. They'd brought Appa and the massive dog had made a home near the barbecue where he sat in the shade and watched expectantly from under the shag of his fur.

Once everyone had been handed their plates, the salmon and veggie burgers, vegetables and steak (Sokka had insisted) cooked and divvied up, the hungry crowd which had been hovering around the grill broke apart and wandered away to settle into groups, giving Iroh a moment to breathe and toss a fat salmon onto the barbecue for himself.

"It's a fine deck you've got."

When Iroh turned, he found Sokka's father standing nearby, his own plate still empty.

Iroh looked downright alarmed by the sight of Hakoda's empty plate. "Have we somehow neglected to deliver the fish to the fisherman?" he said, smiling apologetically at Hakoda and then dug into the cooler that his family had arrived with. A second piece of fish joined his own on the grill with a hiss and fragrant sizzle. "We'll get that taken care of momentarily. It truly is a fine piece of craftsmanship, isn't it?" he continued with a fond smile across the new deck. "It's your son's work - my nephew and their friends helped but-" His voice dropped to a conspiratory whisper. "-truth be told, Zuko could barely hold a hammer when they started the project."

Hakoda chuckled quietly, not in the least bit put out by having to wait a minute or two for his own meal. "Sokka may be clever with construction, but given his sometimes questionable attention span, I'd say the completion of your deck owes at least as much to your nephew's participation."

"Mm," Iroh chuckled as he poked at the fillets with a pair of tongs. "I see your point. I'm very glad that they took the project on. It was a time of his life that Zuko needed it. Working with one s hands can provide a feeling of control that may otherwise be missing in ones life. And getting some sun and fresh air was good for both of them, I'm sure."

Nodding quietly, Hakoda set aside his plate for the moment on the nearby table before returning his attention to the older man. "Sokka mentioned some family troubles," he acknowledged, but didn't press for more information. Instead he offered, "From what I observed a few days ago, Zuko is a very sensitive and compassionate boy. Polite too," he smiled. "He must get that from his uncle."

"He gets it from his late mother," Iroh corrected with a faint smile. "I only hope to provide him a place where he can be that person instead of what his father would demand of him. Our family has experienced many hardships... I'm so glad that Zuko has made friends with families that welcome him into their homes. I know that yours in particular has been very good to him. Thank you for that."

Hakoda hummed thoughtfully. "Kanna has always been very generous with respect to the young people she allows into our home. I should know; I was once one of them."

Iroh chuckled, his voice dropped a bit. "She seems hard as nails. I'd be terrified *now* of courting her daughter, let alone as a youngster."

"Let's just say it was a number of months into that courtship before I worked up the courage to officially introduce myself," Hakoda answered in a whisper. "There's no one else I'd rather see looking after my children when I'm away, though."

This earned a laugh as Iroh turned the fish, hissing anew as they cooked. "That I can understand." He stopped for a long moment to smile fondly upon the scene in his yard. "I'm very lucky - I hadn't realized how quiet my home had become until Zuko and your boy started spending time here. I...perhaps hadn't realized how much I missed having young people around."

"I should be thanking -you- then," Hakoda smiled. "For welcoming Sokka into your home as well."

"Of course!" Iroh said with a laugh. "I love it - I've been elevated to the status of the 'cool uncle' because I have kung fu movies and play Pai Sho. It's great for my ego. I'm sure Zuko is just as embarrassed as my own son was by it though.

After a brief pause, the younger man spoke up again. "Your son?" Sokka hadn't mentioned anything about any one else living with Iroh.

"Mm," Iroh answered with a faint nod, turning the fillets once more to check them before he was loading their plates with steaming fish and grilled vegetables. "I... lost my only son when Zuko was a child. In the war. It has made it particularly difficult to see my younger brother treating his only son so poorly," he spoke quietly, sinking down into a bench that was set against the house. Across the yard, Aang was laughing at Sokka's protests when pieces of his steak were stolen to urge Appa into doing tricks.

Hakoda joined him, nodding gratefully toward the plate of food before taking his first bite, swallowing before he spoke again. "I pray I never experience that kind of loss," he murmured sympathetically. "I have trouble understanding how any parent could take their own child for granted," he continued, then amended. "Of course without the full knowledge of your family, I should refrain from making my own judgments," he spoke with some apology. "Still, if there is any reason for his father to treat Zuko badly, I'm sure -I- haven't seen it."

"Neither have I," Iroh replied with a sigh and a shake of his head. "I honestly can't fathom the way that my brother has treated his son. I can only hope that he still thinks that he's helping the boy with his actions. I'd rather believe that he's simply misguided than... well, the alternative. Life has not treated my nephew fairly at all, I'm just so glad that he's been able to find himself through all that pain."

"If Sokka -has- as you say, played a role in that healing, it would seem that I have more to be proud of my son for than simply building a deck."

"You do," Iroh agreed with a chuckle, then added softly, "They've both been very, very good for one another."

Hakoda nodded, thoughtful for a moment before offering Iroh a quiet smile. "I suspected as much," he replied.

The older man shared that quiet smile with him before letting his eyes fall to his plate as he took another bite. "Mm, this salmon is amazing! I've never had anything like it!"

"Thanks to your skills with the grill," Hakoda insisted, following Iroh's example and helping himself to another large mouthful of fish.

 


	36. Chapter 36

It was well past midnight and Zuko didn't realize that he'd left the instant messenger running on his computer until there came a chime from the speakers beside the darkened screen. When he flicked the monitor back on, there was a message waiting for him from 'RogueBoomerang'.

_hey_

Zuko hadn't quite been asleep, but he rubbed the drowsiness from his eyes and ran a hand through his hair before settling in to type back:

_Hey. What's up?_

_Not much_  came Sokka's reply.  _We got back from taking dad to the airport._

 _How're you doing?_  Zuko wanted to know.

_I'm okay. It's always a little sad to say good bye but we're used to it... and it was a really good visit._

_It was nice to meet him_

A pause.

 _He seems like a real good guy._  What Zuko wanted to type was 'Do you think he liked me?' but on second thought, he worried it might sound a little desperate.

 _He was glad to meet you too,_ Sokka said without prompting. _He said he was glad I had such a good friend._

Zuko sighed, a certain relief settling into his stomach and he found himself smiling at the screen.  _I'm really glad._

There was a long pause and as though on instinct, Zuko could sense the other boy hemming on the other side of town.  _I really missed you all week._

 _Me too_  Zuko answered quickly.  _I mean, I'm glad your dad came to visit but I'm also glad that... you know._  A pause.  _I missed you too_

_Were you going to bed soon?_

_I don't have to._

_I could sneak out..._

Zuko found his breath catching in his throat and swallowed, bit his lip and took a breath and typed back.  _You don't have work tomorrow?_

_Only in the evening. I have a late catering thing but... nothing in the morning._

Zuko stared at the screen for what became too long a moment, and only when he realized he was holding his breath did he jerk to life and flush, though no one was there to see his strange behavior.  _Okay_ he typed.  _I can let you in the back._

_Okay. I'll text you when I'm there._

_See you soon_  Zuko sent off, continued to stare at the screen for a beat after Sokka signed off, then stood quickly, eyes cast about the room, frowning at anything that resembled mess. It took him only a few minutes to straighten up, to shove some laundry under the bed, to comb fingers through his half-tangled hair and pull on a pair of jeans.

He spent more than an adequate amount of time standing before his bedroom mirror, trying to decide between bare chest and tank top, finally deciding that no shirt made him look like he was trying too hard.

It was a little longer than twenty minutes before he got a simple text of,  _Hey, I'm here. I'm on the deck._

Zuko tucked his phone away after a quick  _be right there_  and stared down at his feet before hurriedly pulling his socks off and tossing them into the closet. One more glance in the mirror and then he was tiptoeing down the stairs and hurrying as quietly as he could to the back door, grimacing at the faint squeak the sliding glass made when he pulled it open.

"Hey," he grinned, a little flushed and a little breathless as he caught Sokka's eyes in the dim street light.

"Hey," Sokka echoed both words and grin and Zuko didn't feel quite so vain when he noticed that Sokka's shirt matched his shoes. Or maybe that was just Sokka being Sokka. But in any case, his grin sparked in his blue eyes even in the yellow light of midnight in the suburbs. He slid in the small opening allowed in the sliding glass, catching Zuko's hand and closing it behind them. "I can't believe I haven't been alone with you for more than ten minutes all week," he whispered.

"I feels like it's been longer than a week," Zuko admitted, daring to lean close and place a quick kiss at the corner of Sokka's mouth. "Come on, let's go back to my room before we wake up Uncle."

"Mm," Sokka agreed quietly, following Zuko with the tug of his hand. He snickered just faintly, keeping close enough on Zuko's heels that the other boy could feel the warmth of his body. "It's not *that* exciting," he whispered. "Since your uncle wouldn't even get that mad if he caught us."

"Shut up," Zuko scowled, flushing in the dark. "It'd be -embarrassing-! And then he'd want to ask -questions-." He tugged at Sokka's hand, led him up the stairs and down the hall, pushing open the door to his room.

Sokka had to suppress a laugh even though he himself blushed at the idea. Embarrassing, true. "I promise to be quiet," he whispered, creeping into Zuko's room behind him only to linger by the door awkwardly.

Zuko turned after a beat, moving behind Sokka to close the door with a click that sounded far too loud in the dark. "Uncle sleeps pretty soundly," he admitted, a little safer now with the door shut. "And he always knocks."

"Ah," Sokka seemed to agree, given his nod, hands in his pockets. As though he hadn't spent dozens and dozens of afternoons in this room. "Maybe um - maybe put on some music - like quietly?" he suggested, what he hoped was helpful.

"A-ah, yeah, good idea," Zuko murmured, dropping to his computer chair and opening the player, a click or two later and the first strains of the first song on Sokka's mix tape hummed quietly from the speakers. "That okay?" Zuko asked, oddly nervous.

"Yeah," Sokka was quick to answer, hesitated again, then grinned and flipped off the light. The computer screen bathed the room in a bluish glow that was kind of nice. Gathering his courage, he crossed the room to sit on the end of Zuko's bed and toe off his shoes. "I uh - sorry for being so spur of the moment. And late," he said.

"It's okay," Zuko assured him, rubbing his palms idly on the front of his thighs. "I'm awake, so... and I don't mind... you know, spur of the moment. I'm... glad you came over." He turned the chair around, taking to his feet again suddenly, frowning at the awkwardness lingering between then for no good reason. In half a breath he was standing before Sokka, knees bumping his. "The day your dad came to visit we were gonna- you were gonna come over." He swallowed, looked down at the floor.

"Yeah," Sokka said again, looked from his own knees and up at Zuko. He could feel, hear his heartbeat in his ears. But he kept his head up and lifted a hand to catch the front of Zuko's thin tank top, pulling him down and into a soft, sweet, hesitant kiss.

Zuko found the support of Sokka's knees, a hand bracing himself on either, as he let himself be guided to kneel beside the low bed, let his mouth be coaxed into a kiss he'd missed more than he'd realized. The quiet hum on his tongue seemed more a grateful moan and he slid his hands up Sokka's front to take hold of the blue tee that matched his shoes. And eyes. "Sokka," he breathed, flushing hotly before the words had even left his mouth. "Do you still wanna-?"

"Yes," Sokka cut him off. Kissed him again, quick and soft. "Yes, yes, yes." Another kiss, this one lingering, fading into another smaller one. "Please... I've been... just thinking about it all week..."

Zuko's stomach flopped, then settled into something warm and hungry. "Me too," he confessed, palms opening flat to spread across Sokka's chest, then down, over his waist, hips, to rub at his thighs, teasing at the places he wasn't touching. "Sokka, I want it so bad."

"Yeah," Sokka agreed, finding his vocabulary reduced to a thousand affirmatives. His own hands traveled up neck and shoulder and were lightly on his jaw, the flush of the dark-skinned boy's cheeks visible even in the pale blue light they shared. "Me too," he whispered. "I just... you make me feel so..." But he found no words to express it, since his vocabulary had been so reduced and instead he pressed his mouth to Zuko's again. Firm and wanting and fingers on his cheeks, he let hunger lead him but not get carried away, wanting to make it slow and perfect, to not mess anything up and savor every moment.

"Yeah," Zuko answered, when Sokka pulled away for breath. "Exactly. Just that." Then, as though he suddenly found words too embarrassing to speak aloud, he fell silent and leaned close, pushing Sokka's shirt up his torso, dipping his head to lay kisses from nipple to navel and back again, sighing happily with the scent of the other boy and the soft coolness of his skin.

Even as he peeled his shirt over his head, Sokka couldn't hold back the shiver that took his spine. He was embarrassed as he removed his clothes - Zuko's build was more flattering, more muscular and wiry. Sokka was softer around the middle and though self-concious for a breath, it was only a breath and then Zuko's warm hands were on his skin and that's all that mattered. "You too," he requested, a little breathless already as he tugged at Zuko's tank top.

Zuko let him pull the shirt from his torso, only a moment's pause between kisses and then he was close again, closer, arms circling and hands at the small of Sokka's back as he coaxed goosebumps across Sokka's skin, soothing his shivers with the hot touch of lips and tongue.

Sokka had to swallow hard, feeling dizzy with the heat in his cheeks. The experience that he had was nothing like this - he had no regrets about it but it'd been the fumblings of two children who didn't truly understand what they were doing. This... this was a slow boil that was starting in his belly and the heat was seeping through his body, reaching out to meet the searing of Zuko's lips. "Zuko..." he breathed, squeezing at shoulders, rubbing at back and shivering, unquelable.

"Yeah," Zuko breathed back, mouth moving against the point of Sokka's hip and higher once more before he was climbing up onto the bed, pushing Sokka onto his back, straddling his hips and kissing now at his throat, still slow, still gentle, but with a growing hunger that was one they shared. "You're so..." he murmured, teeth scraping at Sokka's collar.

Sokka thought he would die from the thrill that was Zuko's mouth and teeth on his skin, teasing sensitive places that made him squirm and made his head spin. "Unnh..." he moaned quietly, knowing already that it was going to be hard to stay quiet and the soft music from Zuko's computer reached his ears to remind him of the appropriate decibels. Hands rubbed over chest and ribs and back, chin tilting to encourage Zuko's kisses, shoulders twisting a little when he nibbled just so. Fingers trailed over chest, lingering at the points that were stiff with the cool night air. Then lowered, trailing, catching in the front of Zuko's pants. Not undoing just yet - but suggesting and he was turning to catch Zuko's mouth with his breathless one, to stifle another moan in a rough kiss. Urgent.

Zuko almost seemed to have been waiting for such a move, took Sokka's initiation and placed his own palm flush with the front of Sokka's pants, biting back a moan at the hard heat he found there, beneath the fabric. His own arousal jumped in response, filling fully, aching almost painfully. Then his fingers were at the fastening, prying open the button, yanking at the zipper, slipping a hand inside, a thumb firm and stroking against the underside of Sokka's trapped erection.

Lips broke with a gasp from Sokka's throat, his hips squirming, jumping up against that contact. It was happening so fast - not too fast, he realized since action could barely keep up with the desire bubbling in his blood. He remembered what they'd done on the phone more than a week before, whispered secrets across the lines and listened to each other's pleasure. He remembered how as he touched himself he desperately wished that it'd been Zuko's heat sliding in his fingers. And with this in mind he was fumbling for the other boy's clothes as well, clumsy as he pushed at fabric that was too thick and only got in the way. He hadn't actually intended to dive all the way in right away but he misjudged layers and then hard heat was sliding into his hand under the thin shield of cotton and Sokka didn't hesitate, moaning again with delight and sucking at Zuko's lip. The angle was bad, still fumbling under fabric but he curled his fingers the best he could and stroked, felt, teased with fingertips and moaned his delight into Zuko's mouth in a quiet voice that couldn't be silenced.

Even Zuko had difficulty holding his tongue, swallowing a moan that might have been much louder as Sokka's fingers slid around his length, touched and pulled and felt him out. His breath came in short gasps of air, though he tried to find a calm that didn't' make his head spin so. "Sokka," he groaned, head dropping to the other's shoulder, breath washing hot across Sokka's bare chest. His own fingers stilled and stuttered, then found their goal again, taking Sokka's lead and diving under fabric to find heated skin.

"Mmmmm..." Sokka sighed with delight. His fingers were enthusiastic, squeezing, teasing him, dipping lower to explore other things, to palm at his sac, feel its weight and slide back up. "I like it," he breathed, confided quietly in Zuko's ear, paused to squirm, for breath to hitch as Zuko touched him as well. He'd never touched another boy's arousal before and he found it far more thrilling than he even expected. Hearing the way Zuko gasped here and there at his touch. "More," he breathed, tugged at Zuko's pants with intent. "Take these off too?"

Zuko flushed, somehow, despite everything else, this request bringing heat to his face. "Y-yeah," he agreed. "If you do it too." Reluctantly, he sat up enough to push down his jeans, toeing out of them and reaching to tug at Sokka's own pants, until both garments were a pile on the floor and Zuko had climbed back onto the bed, this time tugging at Sokka's arm until he joined him in the middle of the futon. "You're okay?" he breathed, a whisper. "I mean... not weirded out or anything?"

"Not at all," Sokka replied with a soft, shy smile as they settled side by side, facing each other on top of the coverlet. He reached for a hand to let dark fingers twine with pale, lips ghosting against Zuko's. "You're... amazing," he purred, barely touching. But then with a shift, his front was coming in contact with Zuko's and everything was touching, lips and stomachs and chests and *everything* and before he could stop himself, his hips were pressing in tighter. He could feel the heat of Zuko's arousal through the double layers and stifling, damp cotton, though Sokka's need peeked just over the waistband of his bunching underwear.

"Ah, I'm... I'm glad," Zuko hummed, hand sliding down Sokka's ribs to circle his waist, drawing them flush together, pressing, rubbing. "You feel... really really good," he kissed the words into Sokka's hair, above his ear, at his jaw. Then, "Come here?" he murmured, rolling onto his back and taking Sokka with him so that the slighter boy near-sprawled over his chest, his weight a sweet, teasing pressure against Zuko's hips.

"Yeah..." Sokka breathed, flushed and embarrassed and thrilled all at once. He shifted, a little hesitantly, thoroughly swapping their positions as his knees settled on either side of Zuko's hips . He bit at his lips as his weight settled in the shared heat between them and couldn't help but shift a little, the tiny bit of friction and pleasure too tantalizing to be still. He didn't know what he was doing and only hoped that Zuko either wouldn't notice or wouldn't care, therefore wouldn't point it out. In the dim glow of the room his eyes finally focused on Zuko now laid out under him, pale skin hinted with pink glow and he found himself staring, unable to move for a moment.

"Hey," Zuko finally said, seeming to be equally mesmerized. He reached a soothing hand up Sokka's arm, squeezing at his shoulder, grazing thumb across his jaw. "Let's just... do what feels good. Okay?" His grip fell then to Sokka's hips, giving a faint coaxing tug. "Moving is a good way to start," he suggested, only a hint of teasing in his breathy voice.

Sokka blushed dark at his words but he nodded, curled forward for his lips to brush Zuko's throat, still cool from the night air against his bedroom-warm skin. Movement - it made his breath shudder and heat dance up his spine. His hips shifted, feeling, rubbing them together in an act that seemed so scandalous and felt so, so good even in spite of the remaining fabric between them. Lips opened, teeth grazed and hunger nibbled at the stretch of Zuko's throat, Sokka's tanned form arched over him and pressed into him and squirming, shifting as they explored friction together.

"It's good," Zuko breathed, lifting his chin to let Sokka reach his throat, his jaw. His hands guided and shifted, angling Sokka, placing him just so, until both gasped in unison, a swell of sudden shared pleasure building between them. "Yeah, yeah, like that..."

"Zuko..." Sokka heard his own voice groan with hitching breath, hips grinding eagerly against the other boy's, feeling their arousals drag and rub in the heat trapped between their bodies. He needed one arm to hold him up but the other reached for warm skin, over ribs and stomach, fingers lingering and rubbing, pinching at a nipple. His thoughts were hazy with want and his mouth insatiable, licking, nipping at Zuko's good ear and letting him hear the tiny, wanting sounds that forced their way into his throat. "Mmm... should we..." He pushed a little at the waistband on Zuko's underwear, coaxing it just a little lower.

"Yeah," Zuko hummed instantly, taking a breath and arching up under Sokka to tug at the thin fabric, catching it with a heel to kick off before reaching for Sokka's, repeating the process. And then, when Sokka sank against him again, the difference! "Oh, you feel-" he couldn't finish his thought, not with Sokka's weight and warmth and everything bare touching everything else. "Keep going," he begged, eyes hazy with desire and a growing impatience. " _Please_."

There were no words to be formulated at that point and Sokka could only nod, letting his full weight sink against Zuko, hips bucking down, forward before he could stop them and forcing an embarrassed groan through his teeth. He wondered how many times he'd thought about being naked in this bed and what Zuko would feel like - but the thought was short lived, quickly chased away by solid fact and exactly what he *did* feel like and Sokka's mouth was on his. Fingers dove into his dark, shaggy hair, raking as he moaned openly into Zuko's mouth, stealing a taste of him as his hips began to grind in earnest, so obscene and so thrilling and making his blood heat for more with ever passing second.

Whether or not Sokka had the experience, or knew what he was doing hardly mattered now, not when their motions were a sweaty scramble for friction, for sensation and heat and every touch they could get. At some point, Zuko groaned and twisted, turning them over again, pressing Sokka onto his back and taking control of their pace, fingers clenched in the sheets at Sokka's sides. When Sokka's arms slid around his neck, Zuko turned his head to the side, kissed the inside of his wrist, then bit, breath washing hot and quick over tanned skin.

Sokka squeaked with surprise, the point of faint pain sending a shiver through him and making him writhe, shudder. Panting quietly, he caught the back of Zuko's head and reeled him in, turning his own face away to coax the other boy into the curve of his shoulder. "Here..." he murmured, too embarrassed to ask for much more specific than that, even with Zuko's weight pressing between his spread thighs. His heels hooked behind the other boy's knees, tangling them further, giving leverage when he arched and bucked faintly into the weight that trapped him so delightfully against the mattress.

"Mm," Zuko agreed, kissing first, then letting teeth scrape at the tight line of Sokka's neck. He hummed with satisfaction as he dug his toes into the futon, pressing and grinding reveling in the way Sokka's body sank beneath him, warm and hard and writhing. Already, a heady build of sensation was forming, sparking below his middle, reminding him that with such stimulation, he wouldn't last long. And he wanted it to last, but he also craved release more than almost anything. "Sokka," he moaned, bare above a whisper, the name vibrating across the skin still trapped between his teeth.

Breath hitched, a wordless gasp of agreement the best that Sokka could come up with. His hands groped, gripped at Zuko's back, sliding and squeezing at flesh just hinted with the sheen of sweat. He felt like he could melt into the mattress, torn between oozing bonelessly and twisting with delight at the shudders that Zuko's nipping teeth inspired. He knew he shouldn't be so close so soon - especially not when they were just rubbing, hands too occupied with holding and touching to move down there and too afraid of spoiling the moment. But the pleasure was just as strong as anything he'd brought upon himself and only increasing by the moment, as sweat and anticipation gathered between them and they slid slick against one another. "Yes..." he moaned, then choked on what was almost a voiced cry when Zuko nipped sharply at his neck, hips bucking hard into his weight.

Zuko echoed the sound, gasping as his teeth released Sokka's neck only to bite down again at his shoulder, fingers gripping harder, harder at the sheets and his movements struggling to keep pace despite the slide of skin and aching thighs. Sokka's name was a word caught in his throat, unvoiced but still encompassing what little thought Zuko seemed capable of.

And he knew he wouldn't last, not like this, not when everything felt so -right- and they'd put this off for what seemed so long.

A strangled sound was barely contained, Sokka twisting hard, just enough to avoid pushing Zuko off of him or dislodging that mouth that was sending fire through his blood. Nails dug into pale skin, Sokka's forehead pressed into the ball of a lean shoulder as he struggled to keep his voice under control. The music had long been lost in the proximity and heavy breaths they shared, in the rustle of sheets and quiet moans. "Zuko," he gasped, gripping, squirming, bucking - humiliated by his loss of control but completely undone beneath the other boy. "I- I'm gonna - i-is it okay -?" he panted and knew it didn't matter one way or the other - one more bite to sensitive skin and slick, rough slide of length against length brought him just on the verge of complete abandon.

" _Please_ ," was Zuko half-choked answer, an arm sliding beneath Sokka's back, drawing him up, pressing, rubbing them together, continuing though his knees ached and his legs shook. "Yes...  _please_ ," he said again, mouth open and gasping against Sokka's shoulder.

Sokka choked, clutching hard at Zuko's back, squeezing his ribs and nails raking down his spine. His voice was muffled as he pressed his face tight into the curve of the other boy's neck and shoulder - bucking, shaking, unable to stop. It was all he could do not to shout, to throw his head back with gasping cries of Zuko's name and instead bit his own lips, choked it instead and gasped, shook as the power Zuko had over him flooded in a firestorm through him and he was pulsing between them, helpless to control the arch and writhe of his hips. Whatever anxiety he had, had ever had, about anything between them was whited out in that moment and all that mattered, all that he felt or experienced was Zuko and the only word was his name in a desperate hiss from Sokka's strained lips.

A moment later, Zuko's mouth was over his, smothering and demanding, biting at his lips and tongue, stifled cries half-filtered between them as Zuko's nails dug deep at Sokka's back as he thrust hard against him, slick with pleasure and release.

Sokka shook beneath him, searching for the breath that had left his lungs and sparking with sensation, but Zuko had little mercy, kissed him hard enough to bruise and keened, low and desperate to reach completion, dizzy with it, nearly there.

His eyes couldn't focus so Sokka shut them tight, tried to compose himself enough to kiss back, to swallow eagerly Zuko's wanting voice even as exhaustion and aftershocks flooded through his confused senses. The continued friction made him ache but he endured it, biting at Zuko's lips and moving with him, somehow able to keep the pace of his frantic need in spite of everything. Hands fell on the tight, shifting muscle of the other boy's ass and gripped hard, squeezing, encouraging, letting Zuko take whatever he needed to make him feel good. His voice, muffled and exhausted and desperate for Zuko's pleasure, vibrated between their clashing mouths with its own encouragement.

Zuko wanted distantly to apologize, but words wouldn't form; his mouth could only move with Sokka's. But Sokka's touch, his fingers gripping tight, his shuddering body and the way he rose to meet Zuko's motions, despite overwhelm and exhaustion, all together pushed Zuko past the edge. And when he came, he had hardly the time to bury his nose in Sokka's shoulder, to push his open mouth against the smooth damp skin of Sokka's collar, to stifle the sound that surely would have been heard past the walls of his small room. It lasted long, so long, every tiny movement sending shocks through Zuko's frame, spilling more between them, a mess he hardly noted or minded. A moment later his limbs gave out, and Zuko collapsed, still breathing hard, moaning faintly as he dropped -with as much care as he could muster- over Sokka's form.

Panting hard, Sokka's arms circled tight around the other boy, moaning into his hair as exhausted relief crashed down on them. He nuzzled behind Zuko's ear, breathing deep and shivering with delight and soaking in their shared warmth and closeness. Perfection.

 


	37. Chapter 37

It had only been a few short months since the move, a few short weeks since he'd begun working in his uncle's tea shop and one perfect week since... well he and Sokka had, for the first time-

Mop in hand, Zuko dropped his head to hide the pink that flared across his cheeks at the thought. He was still smiling as he finished cleaning up the spilled tea, still smiling as he passed Iroh on the way back to the storage room and still smiling when he delivered a plate of tea cookies to table two.

The tea shop was a quiet, pleasant place on weekday nights - a good place to come study or read a book or play a game on one of the finely crafted Pai Sho tables that the Jasmine Dragon boasted. It was easy to get lost in the peaceful atmosphere and the soothing music, not to mention his own thoughts, so it was forgivable that it took him a moment to register the gaze of his customer when she lowered her magazine.

Azula smiled her razored, viper smile. "Those look lovely. Did you bake them yourself?"

For a moment Zuko could only stare. Then his expression hardened into something much less pleasant. "Azula. What are you doing here?" He kept his voice low, not caring to attract the attention of the other patrons.

"Do I need an excuse to visit my family?" she answered with only the deepest hurt, as though it were years of hugs and kisses that comprised their past rather than rivalry and abuse.

For a moment Zuko said nothing, just let the words settle awkwardly between them. "Given what happened the last time we saw each other, I'd have to say yes."

Azula rolled her eyes. "You're so sensitive. You should be happy, it got Mai talking to you again, didn't it? Maybe there's hope for you yet."

"Not that it's any of your business, but Mai and are are just friends," Zuko bristled and stepped back. "I've got tea to serve; you'll have to excuse me."

Before he could get far though, quick fingers snatched out for his wrist, Azula's perfectly manicured nails biting just faintly at his skin. "Father wants to see you."

For a beat, Zuko's stomach turned on end, and his breath hitched when he took in air to speak. "I'm tired of your lies, Azula. Enjoy the tea and cookies."

"I'm not lying, Zuzu!" His sister's voice rose, expression pleading as her grip tightened on his wrist, refusing to let him go. "He sent me to bring you home. He wants you to come home."

For a long moment, Zuko said nothing, though there seemed to be a million things ready on his tongue. Finally he turned his eyes on her, mouth set in a thin line. "Come with me." He shook free of her hold then and walked from the table, passing by the counter and Iroh as he went. "I'm taking my break, Uncle," he said, handing the man his apron as he pushed through the doors to the back room.

Azula offered their uncle a winning smile as she breezed past but the older man only frowned quietly. He folded Zuko's apron and set it aside, silent as the door clicked quietly shut behind his brother's children.

"So secretive," Azula mocked him, folding her arms once they were safely in solitude. "I suppose it's for the best - wouldn't want to air your dirty laundry in front of Uncle's customers any more than you already do. He doesn't let you bring your middle-class plaything here, does he?"

"Come off it, Azula." His palm hit the wall with a muffled thump and though her words rankled, he managed to swallow his ire and get to the point. "Tell me why you're really here."

She sighed dramatically, pressing a pair of fingers briefly to her temple, summoning patience for her dear, misguided, idiot brother. "I already told you. Father sent me. He wants me to bring you home. It's been months, Zuzu... don't you think this has gone on long enough?"

"Why would he want me home?" Zuko sank down into an old folding chair, ran an idle hand through his hair. "He seemed pretty serious about wanting me gone." The sarcasm was just evident in his voice and as though in agreement, his long-healed wrist gave a phantom throb.

"He was upset. Can you blame him? It was a pretty big shock. People do things they don't always mean when they're upset. You're his /son/, Zuko, what other reason does he need?"

For a long moment Zuko said nothing, just leaned against the chair's back and felt his stomach twist and untwist and try to turn itself inside out. It couldn't be possible, could it? That his father realized he'd been wrong? That he really did want him home? Zuko shook his head. "I- I don't know. You- you didn't see him that night..."

"I know father can be... passionate," Azula said slowly and for a moment, Zuko felt as though she were genuinely, truly empathizing with him. Though Azula had always been the golden child, it was impossible to grow up in their house and be unaware of their father's volatile tendencies. Hell, Zuko scoffed inwardly, most of the time she was in vocal support of and strove to emulate such tendencies. "Whatever happened... I'm sure it's only because he's concerned for you. Now his temper is cooled and he wants you to come home."

"And then what?" Zuko wanted to know, hope and scorn battling for dominance in his voice. "What next?"

Azula shrugged innocently. "I don't know. That's none of my business. Come home and talk to him."

"I don't know..." He wanted to. At least a part of him did. The part of him he thought he'd killed and buried had already begun struggling to the surface and he found it made him a little sick to think about. But if his father really -had- forgiven him, wanted to see him, to talk to him... didn't he owe the man that much? Just to hear him out?

"I can't make any promises..." He frowned. He'd come to like living with his uncle, having friends who cared about him, having a boyfriend who stuck by him through everything.

"Just come by and talk to him," Azula said, a tiny edge of impatience appearing in her voice. Zuko couldn't imagine that she particularly liked being their father's messenger, especially when it forced her to be civil with him. "You must be tired of this - living in a guest room in suburbia and working in a cafe? You're better than this, Zuzu. C'mon, let's go."

"I can't tonight." Zuko stood, brushing the wrinkles from his pants, and biting his tongue against answering her taunting insults against his current situation. "I have plans already."

"What?" It wasn't often that he saw Azula caught off guard but in that moment, her eyes widened and perfectly-plucked brow furrowed. "You must be joking. This is important!"

"I know. And if Father really does want me back, he'll understand. Right?"

She scowled and Zuko saw her hesitation to answer. He knew that Ozai wouldn't be pleased if she didn't achieve what he'd sent her out for. "What's so important that you'd put off your /family/ for it?" she demanded irritably.

"I have a study session with some of my school friends. He does still care about my education, doesn't he?"

Azula's red lips thinned and he knew he had her caught. And then she said, as brightly as his sister was able, "Of course. Well, tomorrow, then?"

"I'm free after school," Zuko confirmed, not quite as brightly.

"I'll have Ji stop by Uncle's house. Night, Zuzu!" She tossed open the door, followed by the jingle of the front door of the establishment. At her table, tea grew cold and cookies were forgotten.

And in the back room, Zuko leaned back against shelves of bottled tea leaves and paper napkins and wondered what the hell he thought he was doing.

Zuko was quiet as he re-tied the apron. He wanted to say something, anything. Even to ask if Iroh had known why Azula was there. But the words stuck in his throat and he knew it wasn't fair to worry Iroh with this until he'd figured out for himself the sincerity of his father's intentions.

The remainder of his shift passed in this sort of silence. It was a busy evening and the attention that the customers required was an unusual relief, keeping his mind off the issue at hand. At the end of the afternoon, the evening staff took over - Iroh was technically retired and only worked the tea shop himself a few days a week and had his hired staff take over until the early evening close time. Then if Zuko was working after school, he'd drive them both home for dinner. This particular drive home was a quiet one, Iroh clear in his intent not to pry into Zuko's business. When his car came to rest in the driveway though, the older man paused and gave Zuko's arm a gentle touch. "Nephew... I will not trouble you to ask you unpleasant questions. But I want you to know that if you need to talk to me about anything, no matter what it is, I am here."

The sensation of a sinking heart was unpleasant when coupled with an unsettled stomach and Zuko frowned against the wave of guilt that washed over him. "I know, Uncle... I- I really do appreciate that. Maybe... maybe tomorrow."

Iroh just nodded and offered him a reassuring smile. "How does orange chicken sound for dinner?"

"It sounds great, Uncle." The smile Zuko found, though small, was genuine.

After dinner, Sokka and Katara, Toph and Aang all arrived, toting books and paper and bottles of soda. Though they weren't all in the same grade, they'd discovered that the group study sessions encouraged all to tackle their schoolwork in a timely fashion. The younger kids found that having friends who had already taken the classes they were in was another benefit.

Zuko was just glad to be surrounded by his friends. Even when -or maybe especially when- they were distracted by a tossed ball of paper or a break for dessert courtesy of Iroh.

As the hours dwindled and the close of the evening drew near, Katara helped the two youngest members of the group with some math problems that were still relatively fresh in her mind from a year before. With a textbook in his lap, all comfortable and close on Iroh's couch, Sokka slid an arm around Zuko's shoulders, offering an affectionate squeeze at one. He looked up when he felt tension under his attentive fingers and searched for Zuko's gaze in silent question.

But Zuko just shook his head and offered a smile. He couldn't bother Sokka with this. Not yet. Not until he'd learned his father's intentions. Until then. "I'll tell you later," he murmured. "Don't worry."

Sokka frowned a little, concerned, but he nodded his understanding. And though he didn't ask any questions, it didn't stop him from getting close to rub Zuko's neck and shoulders while he turned pages with his free hand.

Zuko sighed quietly, grateful, as he leaned into the touch, his eyes on his book, and his mind on everything but. He didn't think he would be sleeping much that night.

The next day passed in a distracted haze and when the final bells rang, signaling the end of the school day, it was difficult to determine whether it had flown by or dragged on for ages. Sokka had soccer practice after school so he didn't have to make any excuses about where he'd be. He only had about fifteen minutes at home before a brief honk from outside alerted him of his ride's arrival.

The man who'd once been his driver was waiting when he came outside, held open the door for him as Zuko slid into the backseat. Zuko nodded his thanks. "Ji."

"Sir." Ji wouldn't quite meet his gaze as he held the door but he could detect a hint of guilt from his father's employee. It was easy to imagine that he'd been specifically ordered not to speak to Zuko.

The car ride was silent and uncomfortable for both of them and it was with a strange sense of almost relief that he saw his father's house -his old home- come into view. The sooner this was done and over with, the better.

When Ji dropped him off at the front of the estate (the driveway seemed longer than it had a few months ago) he let himself in carefully and found Azula working on homework in the front sitting room. She glanced up at him with a bored expression, considerably less interested in him than she had been the night before. "Father's in his office," she told him offhandedly.

"He's expecting me?" Even now the thought of walking into Ozai's office made some part of him quake.

Azula just nodded, turning her gaze back to her schoolwork. "Yes. Ji called to say you'd arrived."

Each step toward his father's office seemed to add a pound to the weight on his shoulders; by the time he stood outside the door, Zuko could hardly lift his feet. He felt in his pocket for his cell phone. He could call his Uncle or Sokka if he needed to. Ozai only wanted to talk. Zuko took a breath. He knocked.

 


	38. Chapter 38

"Come in." The words were muffled by the heavy oaken door, polished so perfectly that Zuko could see his own palid face in it. It was just as heavy as the rocks in his stomach when the shiny brass latch clicked and he pushed it silently open.

Ozai was sitting at his desk, hands folded on the neat and gleaming surface. Returning, he found that it was almost shocking how clean and polished and well-kept everything was. Unnaturally sterile - unnaturally perfect. It was always important that everything be absolutely perfect.

"Hello, son." His father gave a tiny sliver of a smile, the likes of which never seemed to fit on his face properly. Ozai's voice was always like velvet with that deep undercurrent that seemed to sweep everyone up and demand respect in even the most menial of situations. "Have a seat."

Zuko gave a little bow of his head in return, polite but wary, saying nothing yet- not knowing what he -would- say. To be before his father again... stirred up such a whirl of conflicting emotions that he found it hard to breathe. He took a seat in the polished leather chair opposite Ozai's and for a brief, disturbing moment, felt as though he were back in Doctor Zhao's office, staring down the shrink with terror and determination. The comparison was not a pleasant one.

Perhaps the only thing on his side was that he knew his father's tricks. The low, high-backed chair to make him feel small. The faint, sour smile to lull him into comfort - but he couldn't help but feel as though it were a twitch of whiskers before a tiger struck.

"I appreciate you taking the time to come home today."

For a just a half a beat, Zuko hesitated, instinct warning him against speaking at all, but he reminded himself, silently but firmly, that he was not so weak as he'd once been, that allowing his father to intimidate him only gave Ozai leverage.

"You are my father. It only seems... right to hear you out." Zuko felt ridiculously proud to have spoken the words aloud.

When that fake little smirk faded from his father's expression, he knew his words had hit their target. It was clear that he wasn't expecting such confidence from the young man who'd been begging his forgiveness from the rug only a few months earlier. "Mm." The hum vibrated like thunder in the perfectly silent room. "Family /is/ terribly important isn't it? I think it's time we worked out our differences. It's not proper that a member of this family should be living the life you've been reduced to."

Zuko raised a brow, fighting the urge to visibly bristle. "I agree. Family is very important. My Uncle has been very kind to me the last few months I've been reduced to living with him." He paused for a breath, a thrill shooting through his chest at his own daring.

He saw the flicker of muscle at his father's jaw, the clench of teeth and he felt the tension thicken in the room, as though the temperature itself had risen. But then he forced a new bitter smile and took a breath before he spoke again, "We needn't... burden your uncle anymore. You can plan to move back in right away. It shouldn't take long to pack up the items that you stole."

Now Zuko did frown. "I didn't steal anything." He didn't let his guard down yet, even when there was a tiny part of him that still wanted, very much, to nod and thank his father and leave this office to prepare for his return. Instead he took a short breath, quickly before Ozai could respond. "And I... I need to know why you want me back now."

"As I said..." Ozai said carefully, steepling his fingers. "Family is important. It doesn't come across well that you're living with your uncle. And upon reflecting the last months, I've decided that you're not... unsalvagable."

"Oh." For a long beat, Zuko said nothing else, then finally looked up from the top of his father's desk to meet his eyes. "Is that all? Because it reflects badly on your reputation for me to live with your brother instead of you?"

"It reflects badly on all of us, Zuko." There was that silky, low voice again, coaxing him to trust. "Can you imagine how difficult it will be for you to get into a decent college with two expulsions on your record, graduating from some two-bit public school? Return home and you can return to Hakan for your senior year in the fall. I'll erase all your past mistakes from your permanent record."

Whatever Zuko had been expecting, it hadn't been this. He was more shocked than if his father had leaned over his desk and delivered a sound backhand to his cheek. "Y-you... you would do that?" he heard himself say, cursed himself for it, for that tiny part of him, quiet for months and its surge of hope. If he graduated from Hakan, his future was secure. He could do anything he wanted after that. The responsible thing to do would be to accept his father's offer, wouldn't it? For the sake of his academic- no, his -whole- future. And once he turned 18... once he graduated, he could move out again, right? Here was the second chance he'd once begged for.

Ozai just nodded. "These last few years... have been an unpleasant mark on our family. It's time we start repairing the damage."

"Under what conditions?" Zuko knew his father. He didn't give gifts, he made deals.

This time his father's smile was real, though it was thin and vaguely disturbing to look upon. It was a knowing smile and an almost-appreciation for the understanding that was gathering between them. A scrape sent a chill up Zuko's spine as Ozai opened a desk drawer and produced a pamphlet which he pushed across the desk to Zuko. The front read in bold, cheerful script, "Valley Pure Heart Camp." Photos boasted happy teenagers in various summer activities - as well as the camp's massive, gleaming church. "You'll spend the summer and two weekends a month here to get rid of your little problem. Of course you won't be able to fraternize with the riff-raff from your old school anymore. Neither will you be spending time with your uncle. That man's bleeding-heart liberalism is a poor influence."

Zuko felt the thump of his pulse as he reached across the desk and picked up the pamphlet, opening it wide, scanning the test with unblinking eyes.  _Highest success rate among teenagers and young people... leading your child away from sin back to the path of the Lord... treating confusing and sinful urges with love and proper example.._  "You... want to send me to -gay- camp?" Though the other conditions were equally as worrisome, one thing at a time, Zuko told himself.

Ex-gay within a week or two according to their claims," Ozai replied, dry and icy. "Your recent behavior is completely unbecoming of this family. That will turn right around. We don't need your sin tarnishing our family name."

"But... I'm not doing anything -wrong-. All of my friends are good people and Uncle cares about me, and I'm doing -better- now! My grades have gone up, I'm not getting into trouble, even my teachers have said so. Didn't you read any of their letters?"

Ozai waved a dismissive hand, adding with it a harsh edge to his tone. "None of those things have anything to do with your moral standing or your reputation. I've already told you that you can return to Hakan. My offer is extremely generous."

"My moral standing and reputation are better now than they ever were. I have -friends-, people who look up to me. People who -care- about me. You're asking me to give that up as though it were nothing!" He tried to keep his voice even, the indignation in his voice less than he felt.

Ozai snorted, as though bored with the subject. "You'll have plenty of friends at Hakan. If you let insignificant people hold you back, you'll never get anywhere in life, Zuko."

Now Zuko did bristle, his eyes visibly narrowing, and he leaned forward to pointedly set the pamphlet back on his father's desk. "I know how important reputation is to you. And I do care about my academic future. So I'll come back to Hakan. I'll even move back here. But I'm working now and I won't quit my job at Uncle's tea shop. I won't abandon my friends. And I'm not going to go to your brainwashing church camp. I'm not evil or disturbed or mentally ill or even confused. And I'm not going to stop seeing Sokka."

Ozai stared at him, hard, for a long moment before he suddenly laugh. He tossed his head back and /laughed/. "The real world gave you a tiny bit of backbone, didn't it boy? Well that's too bad - this isn't a negotiation. My house, my school, my rules. Your reservation is already set and paid for at the camp this summer."

For a long moment, Zuko just glared, arms crossed, jaw set. Then, without warning, he stood, shoved his hands in his pockets. "I guess we're done talking then. I hope you can get your money back."

There was a breath in which Zuko was fairly certain he'd never seen his father look so... human. Surprise sprang across Ozai's features as though unable to comprehend that he was being turned down. But then he laughed again and a nasty sneer curled his mouth. "You don't seem to understand. This isn't a /choice/. This is what you're going to do."

"I don't think -you- understand," Zuko answered, just as icily as his father. "I'm not joking. And if you're going to make me give up the only things that make me happy, then I'm not going to come back."

The wheeled leather chair behind the desk shrieked across the wood floor and smacked sharply when it hit the wall, thrown back as Ozai surged to his feet. "You sit your ass back down in that chair, boy!" There was the snarl. "I'm your father and you'll do as I say!"

It was to Zuko's credit that he managed to twist his flinch into a sneer worthy of the man across from him. "My -uncle- has been more of a father to me in the past three months than you've -ever- been!"

All it took was three long strides for Ozai to round the desk and grab Zuko's bicep in a fierce, bruising grip. "You're /going/ to that camp. You have no idea the gossip you've started by entering into this filthy lifestyle. You're going to clean up and show them what a member of this family is supposed to look like."

Zuko froze, the grip on his arm chilling and infuriating him all at once. "Maybe if you treated your children like people instead of trophies, showed that you cared at all about our happiness, that you had even a -shred- of love to spare, maybe then your reputation wouldn't suffer so much."

If there was anything that was an accurate confirmation of his assumption, it was the sting of the back of Ozai's hand across his mouth. It'd been months but it still felt almost familiar. He tasted blood. And then Ozai's hand was in his hair, yanking his head back up. "You ungrateful little shit. If you weren't such a weak, emotional little queer you'd see everything I've done for your pathetic carcass."

Zuko spat pink, willed his eyes to focus and reached up to take hold of his father's wrist. Ozai was strong, but Zuko hadn't trained in Northern Shaolin style for ten years without retaining something. And this time, he wasn't afraid. "And if you weren't such a self-centered, hateful, pathetic excuse for a father, you'd see that all I ever wanted was for you to show me one -ounce- of affection, a single word of praise. Even before Mom died, you never cared! All my life you made me believe I was worthless. Well I'm done. I'm done with it! Let me go!"

Ozai laughed and yanked Zuko's hair hard, dragging him across the room before giving him a good shove. Pain again shot through his senses, exploding on the unscarred side of his face at brow and temple when Ozai slammed his face against the wall and held him there. "Ah, yes, your whore of a mother. You're just like her. A pitiful, worthless /burden/."

Up until that moment, the plan had been simple: let Ozai get in his kicks -he'd survived them once- and then leave. Leave and never come back. But his words, those words that angered Zuko when directed toward him, lit a fire of irrepressible rage in his chest and behind his eyes when applied to his mother. For an instant neither moved or spoke. Then, Zuko's grip tightened and the howl left his throat was raw, bitter, sudden. And in less than a breath, Ozai's arm was twisted away, freeing Zuko from the wall, and he dropped, kicking out to sweep his father's legs out from under him. In the time it took the man to grunt in surprise, Zuko had straddled his waist and delivered a blow that left his knuckles flecked with Ozai's blood. "Don't you -ever- say that again!"

It was going to take more than that to keep the older man down. Though blood trickled from the corner of his mouth and his hair was disheveled, rage burning in his eyes, he grabbed Zuko's wrists and threw him to the floor. A hand closed on Zuko's throat, pressing him to the expensive, spotless oriental rug. "I should have killed you when I burned your face. You'd be better off dead than being fucked by some middle-class faggot trash."

Ozai's first mistake was not quitting while he was ahead. His second mistake was failing to properly pin down the arms of a boy who was near his equal in martial artistry and his superior in youth and flexibility. Face already darkening from lack of air, Zuko spared a moment to hiss a breathless, "Fuck. You." Then, with blinding speed, Zuko twisted sideways, momentum snapping his arm in a tight, controlled arc and into Ozai's sneering face with a satisfying crack. The moment that hand was gone from his throat, Zuko surged upward, shoving at his father as he scrambled back, cheeks damp with angry tears and voice horse as he shouted. "You shut up! Shut the FUCK up. Don't -ever- talk about ANY of them again. Don't fucking DARE."

The impact of Zuko's words were somewhat lost on his father - the older man was a bit busy snarling in pain, doubled over as he clutched at his nose. Blood poured between his fingers and dripped into the red of the oriental rug where it was thirstily absorbed and disappeared.

Zuko's pulse pounded wildly in his chest, but adrenalin dragged him to his feet. He hardly felt it when his hip caught the edge of his father's desk. He didn't notice when his steadying hand slipped on a stack of papers, sending a coffee mug (proudly declaring Hakan Alumi) tumbling to the floor where it shattered loudly, scattering crimson shards across the hardwood. He was already halfway to the door, well out of Ozai's reach when he paused, turned back around. "I'm leaving now," he said, catching his father's gaze when the man looked up. "I'm going back home."

Rage flashed in Ozai's eyes but before he could find his voice or surge to his feet, the heavy oaken door slammed shut. Zuko made it as far as the living room where Azula was standing at the end of the hall. She looked nervous and didn't seem to be helped by the appearance of bruised and bloodied Zuko. As he approached, she composed herself though and put a hardness into her mascaraed eyes. "Father doesn't want you to leave."

"As far as I'm concerned, -Father- can go fuck himself." He made as though to push past her, but she grabbed for his shoulder and pushed him back.

"This is idiocy, Zuzu. Are you actually /choosing/ mediocrity over what Father can give us? You're even dumber than I thought!"

Zuko's eyes were hard when they met hers, but underneath the anger was a sliver of desperation, a desire to make her understand. "What I'm choosing, Azula, is the chance to live my own life, to shape my own future, the opportunity to -make- my own choices. Don't you want that? Don't you ever get sick of him deciding your whole life for you? -Using- you to his own ends?"

Azula frowned, suddenly reproachful and suspicious as though she didn't know how to react to Zuko reasoning with her. "He- everything he does, he does it for me. You're just blind and selfish and you can't appreciate that he's trying to mold us into greatness." And then haughty Azula returned airily. "Not that it's any skin off my nose if you leave. All the inheritance will be mine. Someday I'm going to own the school and the estates and the stocks - I'm going to be /great/, Zuzu. Greater than you could never be."

It wasn't any use, Zuko could see that. And his heart hurt too much, his anger still too raw to press back harder, to risk the time needed to convince her. "Maybe," he answered, nodding, nodding. "If he doesn't kill you first. Who's he going to take his anger out on without Mom or me around? Don't think you're safe because you're the golden child."

"Che. Whatever. The big difference, Zuko, is that I'm not a failure." But Zuko was already walking away and his words seemed to rankle her enough that she wasn't chasing after him. "Father loves me!" she shouted across the front room.

"You know what, Azula? Believe whatever you want. Do whatever you want. But if that's how it's going to be? You spending the rest of your life kissing -his- ass? Then just be sure to stay the hell away from me and my friends. Because I'm done."

He didn't wait for an answer and Azula was left standing there, open-mouthed, as the door snapped shut with an echoing finality.

 


	39. Chapter 39

Sokka always found it rather remarkable how adult his afternoons with the White Lotus group made him feel. As a sixteen-year-old boy, he imagined that he should have felt young in the setting with five men, all over fifty. But the fact that they all treated him with respect - treated him *as* an adult made all the difference. There was also the fact that next to Bumi, there were times he looks like a Harvard graduate in comparison.

"Natural twenty! My Yu Yan archers DEMOLISH your Sabre-toothed Moose-Lion! Take that! AHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Pakku arched one white brow, not nearly as delighted as Bumi flicked his tile off the table in a fit of joy. He looked at Piandao. Piandao shrugged. Pakku sighed and retrieved the tile.

Sokka frowned to himself, discreetly checking his phone again under the table. He'd texted Zuko half an hour ago because neither Iroh or he knew where the other boy was. He wasn't working the tea shop and if he had studying to do at the library, he would have let Sokka know. He didn't want to be overbearing though, texting over and over to find out where his boyfriend was. Unfortunately Sokka's brain also had a tendency to spiral out of control when a worry happened to pop up. He had two exes to potentially contend with - what if Jet had shown up again? What if the sex they'd had was laughable compared to sex with Jet? What if right now they were - He'd been talking to Mai online too. Maybe she wanted him back. How the hell could he compare to a pretty girl? She was all soft and pale and Zuko would probably rather -

A merry chime interrupted Sokka's whirling thoughts, accompanied by the vibration of his cell phone. When he pulled it out to check, there was the hoped for text from Zuko.  _Be home soon. Can you come over?_

 _Already here_ , Sokka texted back.  _White Lotus tonight. Are you okay? Do you need a ride?_

It took almost 5 minutes before his phone chimed again and Iroh gave him a curious look when Sokka scrambled to check the message.  _Oh yeah. No its ok. Just got off the bus_

_Ok, see you in a few._

Sokka looked up to focus on the game for a few more minutes. "Zuko's almost home," he told Iroh quietly.

"Is he? Good, good. The tea is still warm. Perhaps you can offer him some when he arrives? Ah-ha! A clever move, Jeong Jeong, but I'm afraid you underestimated the defensive capabilities of my fire barrier!"

The sun had slipped behind the distant mountains by the time Zuko arrived home, and Iroh proudly turned on the lights he'd set up on the boys' deck. Those assembled were offering their comments, praise or otherwise on the strands of tea-cup shaped lights Iroh had special ordered when the faint scrape of the sliding glass door caught Sokka's attention.

The youngest member of the group perked instantly, still vaguely on-edge from his panicky (and admittedly a little paranoid and pathetic) thoughts over the last hour. "Hey!" he said eagerly, waving to Zuko from the table though in the shadows from inside, he couldn't see his face. When the other boy didn't join them outside, he frowned and rose to make his way to the door.

As Sokka approached, Zuko ducked back into the house, leaning up against the wall in the dark kitchen. "Could you ask Uncle to come inside too?"

"Oh - sure..." Sokka frowned, trepidation creeping up in him but he hurried to return to the deck. With a gentle tug on Iroh's sleeve he murmured in the older man's ear that Zuko wanted to talk to them.

"Gentlemen, if you'll excuse me for a moment, my nephew has returned. Please, feel free to enjoy the tea-lights -haha!- and help yourself to the tea and cookies."

He still wore his easy smile as he followed Sokka into the house, closing the glass door behind him. Zuko wasn't in the kitchen, but it only took a moment to find him. The living room light was on, and Zuko was there, sitting on the edge of the couch, hood pushed back from his face.

Both smiles faded quickly as they got a good look at Zuko - his split and swollen lip and the bruise around his good eye that was only a hint of what it promised to be in a few hours.

"Zuko!" Sokka cried, his stomach bottoming out so intensely and so quickly that it made him dizzy. He surged forward to kneel in front of the other boy, horror written all over his features. "What happened? Are you okay? Is anything broken? Oh my god!"

"I'm going to get some ice," Iroh said quickly and hustled into the kitchen.

"I'm okay," Zuko shook his head, his voice still a little raspy and his eyes still a little red, but he put on a smile that, though small, was sincere as he held out his hands to take Sokka's. "Really. Nothing's broken. Just some bruises." He rubbed gently at his throat, coughed to clear it.

He waited until his uncle had returned, gratefully accepting the bag of ice Iroh had wrapped in a thin hand towel and held it up with a hiss to the side of his face. "Ow, hah." He looked up then, into two worried and expectant faces and sighed. He had to tell them eventually. "Um. I went to see my father this afternoon."

Two sets of eyes widened like owls'. "What?" Sokka choked. "Why?"

Zuko shared a brief glance with his Uncle and looked back down at his hands. "Yesterday Azula came into the tea shop. She told me my father wanted to talk to me. That he'd... had time to think about things and wanted me to come back home. I went back to the house today because... I guess I wanted to hear what he had to say. To see if she was telling the truth."

Iroh sighed quietly. "I thought it might be something along those lines. There is no reason Azula would come to the shop unless Ozai sent her."

Sokka had settled beside Zuko on the couch, one hand on the other boy's knee because damned if he wasn't going to be touching *something* right now. "What happened? Did he want you to come home? Or did he just want to beat you up again? That god damn bastard - I wanna go right up to his door and just - Augh!"

Zuko lay his own hand over Sokka's, gave it a squeeze. "It's okay. It's.. it's over now. I went over and saw him. Azula was right. He wanted me to come home. But he..." Zuko stopped, sniffed a little, shook his head. He would be damned if he continued to shed more tears over this man. "He told me I could come back to Hakan, that he'd forget everything I'd done, he'd clear my record."

Repeatedly, Sokka felt that his heartbeat couldn't thump any louder, his stomach couldn't sink any lower and his eyes couldn't get any wider. This time his mouth went dry too. It was like his worst nightmare come true. Zuko's father offering him everything he wanted and luring him back in to his abusive clutches. He couldn't even speak though inside he screamed to know what Zuko had said. His father beating him up had, in the past, been no indication that Zuko had let go of his desire to make Ozai happy. Even when he'd been beaten and kicked out initially, he'd been more determined than ever to win his father's favor.

Iroh lay a gentle hand on his shoulder. "That must have been an extremely difficult offer to face."

Zuko laughed quiet, just a huff of breath and he shook his head. "I thought it would be. I really believed that was everything I wanted, you know? Then I asked him what his conditions were. I knew, you know, that it could never be that easy." Here, Zuko's hand clutched tighter at Sokka's, his jaw clenched as he fought to speak aloud what happened next. "His first condition was a rehabilitation camp. To 'cure' me of my... morally objectionable behavior."

Iroh frowned hard but Sokka's was almost guilty, though he squeezed back at Zuko's hand.

The bitterness in his voice clearly expressed his opinion of this idea. "But it wasn't even that that was the worst. It was when he told me that I would not be allowed to see you again," he met Iroh's gaze. "Or you," he turned to Sokka. "That I'd have to give up everything that's made me happy for the past three months. All the people who care about me..."

Zuko caught a glimpse of Iroh's jaw tightening under his beard, matching the angry set of his eyebrows. "After everything he's put you through... he would ask for such a thing."

"No listen. Even then, even -then-, if he'd given me any indication... if he had made me believe that he really just... had my best interests in mind, I might have... I might have heard him out. If he'd told me... if he'd told me he loved me and just wanted me to make the right choices, if he'd shown any sign at all of being my -father-, of -caring-..." Zuko frowned, guilt tight in his chest. "But he didn't. He didn't. He only cared about his reputation. People were talking; it reflected badly on him that his son lived somewhere else, that he had... problems. He only... in the end he only cared about how I made him look. He didn't even deny that it was why he wanted me back." A beat. "So I told him no. I wouldn't do it. Not if he made me give up everything that made me happy." A breath and Zuko looked at the boy beside him, almost wincing.

He didn't get a good look at Sokka's face though because before he could, the younger boy was sliding his arms around Zuko's shoulders. His cheek was cool from being outside when he pressed it to Zuko's scarred cheek and squeezed him. Iroh's wide hand was warm on his back.

"Dammit," Zuko swore when he felt the wet on his cheeks. He'd promised himself he wouldn't cry again. "He said I didn't have a choice, I argued with him. I... said he was a bad father, and he grabbed me. He called me weak... a- a faggot, I told him to let me go. Then he- he threw me against the wall and said my mom was a whore and a worthless burden and I was just like her." The words fell from his mouth now without stopping. He couldn't stop them or the angry tears that dripped down his nose. "I used a throw, got him on the ground, punched him in the face. I was yelling, told him never to say that about my mother."

Sokka's arms around him tightened, as though wringing the tears from him, pressing their temples and cheekbones together tightly. Trying to hold him tight enough to replace all of those terrible things with his touch.

"Nephew..." Iroh's voice was tremulous.

"He got me on my back, started to choke me. S-said... he should have killed me back when- and then he said he'd rather see me dead than..." his eyes flickered to Sokka. "He said bad things about Sokka so I.. I hit him again. I couldn't breathe and I hit him really hard. He was... bleeding everywhere. I broke a cup and I got up and said I was going home. And Azula tried to stop me but I left. I just left. And I walked for a while, and then I waited for the bus and... and I came home."

Iroh couldn't stand it anymore. He wrapped both boys up in his arms, careful of Zuko's bruised cheek when he rested his own cheek against Zuko's hair. "I'm so proud of you, Nephew. For standing up for yourself and doing what's right for you."

Sokka's voice was a tiny whisper in his ear and only when he heard the hoarseness of it did he realize that the other boy was crying silently as well. "You're safe now."

"I'm okay," Zuko breathed. "I'm really okay. I- just... wanted to come home. Back here. I'm okay now. Don't worry, okay?" His chest hurt with the tightness of the arms around him and the emotion he felt but he didn't care. He was smiling. "Don't worry."

Both boys heard the trembling sharp breath that Iroh took and he squeezed them tight enough to seem as though he intended to break bones. "Welcome home, Zuko," he said gently and then sat back, laughing and wiping at his creased and tear-filled eyes. "Ah. I think I'll put some fresh tea on. Does that sound all right?"

Zuko nodded. "I'd love some, Uncle... Thank you." He reached out then, before Iroh pulled entirely away, and gave the older man's hand a squeeze. When his uncle had slipped into the kitchen, Zuko turned his gaze apologetically on Sokka. "I'm sorry about all this. You didn't sign on for all this... this drama." He sniffed, scrubbed at his face, offered a bashful shrug.

"Shut up," Sokka ordered, somehow managing to be both sharp and pouting at the same time. Hands on Zuko's jaw drew him into a careful but sound kiss, minding his split lip. It was wet with both of their tears and Zuko's mouth tasted like copper but it was good. And when he drew back, Sokka looked into his eyes and smiled. "You're awesome."

Zuko's answering smile was embarrassed, but in truth, just being back here with Sokka and his Uncle... already he felt better than he had two hours ago. "Oh my god. I think I broke his nose."

Sokka laughed - maybe it was inappropriate but he didn't care and it felt good and he was /impressed/. "Are you serious? That is so bad ass. Oh man, I love you." He grinned wide for a beat before he realized what he'd said and the grin melted into complete and utter chagrin under the firey heat of his beet-red cheeks. "I-I mean - because - because you're so tough! Like a kung-fu movie!"

"Oh- right! Yeah!" Zuko laughed too, face as red as Sokka's and if the moment was awkward, well it was okay. Because right now, it felt like the only way things could go was up. He was making his own choices now, following his own path. and walking hand in hand with the people who cared about him. And he was happy. He was shaken and sore and still a little shocked about what had just happened. And he knew that these weren't the last tears he would shed no matter what he told himself. But he was -happy-. Right in this moment, he was happy. And while Sokka blustered, Zuko circled him up with his arms and kissed him till it hurt.

Initially Sokka squeaked with surprise and hesitated because he didn't *want* to hurt Zuko... but after a breath, there was no stopping it and he sank deep into the kiss. He wrapped his arms around Zuko's ribs and he clutched at the back of his shirt and he kissed. There weren't enough words to say how proud he was of the other boy or how happy he was in Zuko's decision. Maybe he'd try later. But right now he just poured that all into the mesh of lips, emotion and adoration electric between them in such a way that made his chest tighten and then swell. He smiled against Zuko's mouth and hugged him tighter.

They only pulled away when a polite clearing of throat drew their attention to Uncle Iroh, standing nearby, a tea tray in hand. Zuko was already flushing pink when he noticed that his uncle wasn't their only audience.

On this cue, Sokka glanced over his shoulder and blanched, then blushed again. Really, this was a dangerous and exhausting evening for his circulatory system. As it turned out, the place they'd chosen on the couch provided just the right angle that they were visible through the dining room and the sliding room glass door that the members of the White Lotus were getting quite a show. They all very quickly looked away, busying themselves with their tiles when Sokka glanced toward them - all except Bumi who whooped, muffled through the glass, and shot Sokka a thumbs up and a disturbing grin.

Iroh politely set the tea down for them and excused himself. "I do believe it may be time for me to say goodnight to my guests."

"I interrupted your Pai Sho game," Zuko realized, apologetically, already reaching for a tea cup and a second to hand to Sokka.

Sokka rubbed at his cheeks, trying to will them to cool before he picked up his own cup. "We were almost done. It's no big deal. I was worried about you so I couldn't concentrate anyway."

It took some amount of will power for Zuko not to apologize yet again. Instead he hummed vaguely. "I'm okay though," he assured Sokka. relishing the heat of his tea as he held it to his lips. "I mean... I will be. I- I'm sort of glad that it's... over, you know?"

"I definitely understand." It wouldn't have sounded right to say it out loud, but inside, Sokka was glad of that too. He squeezed the other's hand. Before they could say anything else though, the glass door shrieked and the men from outside shuffled in to take their leave.

"Good night, boys," Jeong-Jeong said politely as they passed. Piandao offered a wink to the youngest member of the Lotus.

Pakku raised a disinterested brow and caught Sokka's eye. "Give my regards to your grandmother."

As Iroh walked his guests to the front door, Bumi's voice carried (unsurprisingly) through the house. "Young love is so magical. I remember my first love. Of course I was fifteen and she was forty-six but DAMN was it MAGICAL!" His snorting laughter, Sokka decided, was the world's most efficient mood killer.

"Remind me again why I car pool with you?" said Piandao right before the door shut behind them.

"Now then, boys," Iroh hummed as he turned back to the couch. "If your grandmother allows, Sokka, you may stay the night. As for me, I think it's about time to whip up a little something for dinner. What do you say?"

Sokka smiled sheepishly, marveling not for the first time at how pleasant and convenient it was that Zuko's uncle let him stay over so often. Not to mention never raising a brow at anything they did. Aside from the occasional jibe that left both of them blushing furiously. "That sounds great. Thank you, Uncle."

"Thank you," Zuko echoed, smiling up at his uncle gratefully. Here was where he belonged. Here was his home.

As long as he kept up on his chores, GranGran rarely had any objection to anything Sokka decided to do with his time. So he put off his homework (a gesture truly indicative of his priorities) and spent a quiet evening at Iroh's. They made dinner and forced Zuko to rest and after eating, Iroh tended to the cuts and scrapes on his face. When Iroh went to bed, Sokka dragged Zuko to the couch to relax and watch a movie and ice his bruised face a little more, Zuko's head resting in Sokka's lap.

"Remember the first time we did this? Then the second time when we slept all night down here?" When Sokka glanced down, Zuko was smiling, the ice off his face, and searching for Sokka's eyes. "I think this is the best time so far."

Sokka couldn't help but grin and it came out just a little bit quirky, a little bit goofy and warmed in his blue eyes. "Yeah? Hmm... I guess you're right. Since this time I can do this." He curled in, doubled over to press a soft kiss to the other boy's mouth.

A pale hand found it's way around the back of Sokka's neck, holding firm while Zuko returned the kiss, a swipe of tongue wetting his mouth before falling back to Sokka's lap. "Yeah, that's pretty nice."

For the moment, the movie was forgotten, Sokka only able to smile down at him, eyes darting over Zuko's face. He was bruised and scraped and scarred and wonderful. And yappy, bubbly Sokka found that there weren't any words that could properly say that, nothing that could encompass how happy he was just then or how he just wanted to squeeze Zuko until he couldn't breathe. So he didn't say anything. Instead he just smiled.

But Zuko knew the right words, and though he was tired and bruised, there was a spark in his eyes as he turned a grin upward and closed his hand around Sokka's. "Hey," he said, waiting for Sokka to lift a questioning brow. "I love you too."

Surprise flickered through Sokka's features and he blinked several times, as though processing the information. But he knew what Zuko was referring to and he flushed all over again, turning a dark pink. "I-" He bit his lip and found his smile again, even if it was an embarrassed one. "I love you too, too."

Zuko laughed, but he wasn't making fun, he wasn't teasing. "Good," was his answer. "Good," he said again, his eyes closing and his fingers twining tighter.

Sokka squeezed Zuko's hand back and smiled his chagrined smile for a few moments longer. "You wanna go to bed a little early? You had a pretty rough day."

"Mm, yeah." Zuko shifted somewhat reluctantly, stretching his arms out and groaning only a little dramatically. "Carry me?" he hummed, only half joking.

Sokka laughed and flopped back against the couch, letting Zuko stretch, supine, across his lap. "I think the last thing you need is me dropping you down the stairs. You know it'd happen."

"Aw..." Zuko turned over, propping himself up in Sokka's lap. "You're no fun."

Sokka just grinned and nudged Zuko reluctantly to his feet. With the television off and the house dark, they felt their way up the stairs. "Do you have any idea how many awesome points you earned today?" Sokka whispered, dogging his heels. "It's pretty much off the charts. It's gonna take you a long time to redeem all those points."

It made their going a bit clumsy when Zuko wrapped his arms around Sokka's waist as they climbed the stairs, but neither cared much, laughing a little as they stumbled down the hall toward Zuko's bedroom.

Once instead, the door closed behind them, Zuko straightened up, hand's resting lightly on Sokka's hips, walking him backward toward the bed. "And how do you think I should redeem all these points?" he wondered, voice low, breathy in the dark.

Sokka's grin was a moonlit gleam in the dim light. "I could think of a few things..." Arms slid around Zuko's neck carefully as Sokka's calves bumped against the end of the low bed. "I don't want to hurt you... but..." He smirked just a little as he leaned in to oh so softly kiss Zuko's lips. "I do want to reward you for being so tough and brave..."

Zuko smiled, lips moving against Sokka's, warm breath shared. "Why don't you just show me that you're happy I came home..."

"I am. Really happy." Tan fingers lifted to sift lightly through inky hair. "Thank you." And he sank into Zuko's kiss with all the appreciation and happiness that still burned hot in his chest.

It was nothing like the first time. Where they'd once been furtive, fumbling for release, Sokka forced Zuko to lie back and indulge in his slow, careful attention. Under the sheets it was warm and dark and naked. Sokka kissed so softly at bruises, as though he could kiss them lightly away, while his hands learned new things about Zuko's body and soaked the memories into the maps of his palms.

When the sheets and pillows embraced them and their skin glowed with relief and relaxation, Sokka snuggled close and wrapped an arm around Zuko's middle. "Mine," he growled, spent and playful and affectionate.

Zuko's answer was a thankful sigh. He felt drained, and yet so, so full. "Mine too."


End file.
